LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



□DDlfib53Dfl4 





























































































explains, they were all under the direct supervision of the Congregazione d’An- 
nona, 4 a government agency which regulated the production and sale of grain 
products; hence the allusions to tilling the land and reaping the harvest, and the 
coat of arms of the Congregazione, displaying three spikes of wheat. The juris¬ 
diction of the agency was limited to the district of Modena. 

The communities mentioned in the drawing are also listed in a rare and, 
for its time (1750), quite unusual guidebook outlining the new administrative 
organization of the duchy of Modena. 5 Following the example of England and 
France, the Stato Estense, as the duchy was called, received a modern administra¬ 
tive structure during the long reign (1737-80) of Duke Francesco III while a 
similar change occurred in Austria. It was a gradual process finally completed in 
1754, when the duke moved to Milan as governor of Austrian Lombardy, whose 
ruler, Archduke Pietro Leopoldo, was a minor. The poster reflects a section of 
this governmental reorganization. We can only surmise as to its purpose; quite 
likely, it was made in the 1750s to publicize the functions of the Congregazione 
d’Annona. 

The two architectural drawings, measuring 51 by 75 centimeters, are the work 
of Francisco La Vega, an architect who played a very important part in the 
rediscovery of Herculaneum and Pompeii. From 1764 he worked in Herculaneum 
under the guidance of Roque Joaquin de Alcubierre, a Spanish military engineer 
whose death in 1780 left La Vega in sole charge of the excavations. For the map 
he drew of Herculaneum, a modern archeologist has praised La Vega as the “best 
of the eighteenth-century excavators.” 6 

The two drawings concern a theater and a ballroom which were to be built 
as an extension to the residence of the Spanish minister to Naples, Don Alphonso 
Clemente de Arostegui, by order of the king of Spain. One of the drawings shows 
the ground plan and exterior view, and the other, longitudinal and transversal 
cuts of the interior walls. The extension was to be built on a quite unusual site; 
on the roofs of a row of two-story buildings, which contained shops at ground 
level and living quarters or storage rooms on the upper floor. 7 Since these shops 
did not have sufficient depth to accommodate a ballroom and theater over them, 
the planned extension had to be made wider, forming a colonnade over the front 
of the shops. This new facade had to harmonize with the adjacent palace of the 
Spanish minister. The moldings around the windows were made to resemble 
those of the older building, and the spandrils of the arches were decorated with 
the royal insignia, the Bourbon lily, and the tower of Castile. Needless to say, 
the building material used for this project was wood, made to look like stone 


78 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


through the ingenuity of the stucco artisans. Thus, in its temporary character it 
is related to festival architecture, together with triumphal arches and modern 
fairground buildings. 

The second sheet, showing the interior walls and ceiling decorations as well 
as the stage, is exquisitely drawn, with numerous minute details. Like the Modena 
drawing, it too pays tribute to the trompe 1’oeil fashion of the time by suggesting 
paper crumpled at the edges. The system of decoration is remarkable in showing 
an overwhelming influence of the recently discovered wall paintings in Her¬ 
culaneum. Instead of rococo ornamental exuberance, one notices here the 
restraint of incipient classicism. There is a rhythm of windows and delicately de¬ 
corated wall sections, with mirrors to which candlesticks are attached. The mid¬ 
dle of the center section is marked by a niche containing a statue, evidently one 
excavated in Herculaneum. For a contemporary visitor, expecting a vast, illusion- 
istic painting on the ceiling, as he would see in other places, whether castle or 
church, this ceiling, subdivided as it is into small compartments, each with its 
own decorative theme, must have come as a surprise. This system, too, is derived 
from the excavations, as are the many small, figurative scenes. The only allusion 
to contemporary power is found in the center section, where one notices heraldic 
emblems—the bars of Aragon and the pomegranate of Granada—and the insignia 
of the great knightly orders. 

La Vega further subdivided the vast sweep of space into three sections. On 
leaving the minister’s residence, one entered a room whose ceiling suggests the 
roof of a tent, with floral ornaments and a few classical scenes. Between this room 
and the larger center section was a gallery for the musicians. Both of these sec¬ 
tions served as a ballroom. At the far end was the stage with its machinery, and 
behind this, an exit passage leading to a stairway permitting descent toward the 
city. 

The occasion for which this unusual building was created was the wedding 
in May 1768 of a boy of seventeen, Ferdinand IV, king of the Two Sicilies (that 
is Naples and Sicily), and his fifteen-year-old bride, Maria Carolina of Austria. 
Ferdinand was the son of Charles III, king of Spain, who as a young man had 
wrested the Sicilian kingdom from the Austrians, and thus in 1734 became the 
first Bourbon king to rule over the Two Sicilies. He was considered a good ruler 
and there was much regret when in 1759, after the death of his older brother, 
King Ferdinand VI of Spain, he was called to Spain to succeed the latter and left 
his young son, the future Ferdinand IV, in Naples under a regency. 

Charles took a keen interest in the excavation of Herculaneum from its 


Three Italian Drawings / 79 





. • 



















































GRAPHIC SAMPLER 




Samson Threatening His Father-in-Lavv. Print from restrike album, after the Rembrandt painting. 














GRAPHIC SAMPLER 


Compiled by 

RENATA V. SHAW 


Prints and Photographs Division 


LIBRARY OF CONGRESS WASHINGTON 1979 



Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data 


Main entry under title: 

Graphic sampler. 

1. Prints—Addresses, essays, lectures. 

2. Drawing—Addresses, essays, lectures. 

3. Popular culture—Illustrations—Addresses, 
essays, lectures. 4. Architectural drawing— 
Addresses, essays, lectures. I. Shaw, Renata V. 
II. United States. Library of Congress. Prints 
and Photographs Division. 

-NE 40 6 .O7 760'.074'0153 79-12124 

ISBN 0-8444-0309-1 


Frontispiece: Samson Threatening His Father-in-Law. 
Print from restrike album, after the Rembrandt painting. 


For sale by the Superintendent of Documents, U.S. Government Printing Office 

Washington, D.C. 20402 
Stock Number 030-000-00092-7 





This book is dedicated to Edgar Breitenbach, 

Chief of the Prints and Photographs Division from 1956 to 1973, 
whose enthusiasm and interest in the graphic arts 
inspired many of the essays in this volume. 























































With this Graphic Sampler, the Prints and Photographs Division presents to its 
friends a representative selection of images from the vast and diverse collections 
in its custody. The choice of subject matter studied by the twelve authors has 
been suggested either by the rediscovery of a group of drawings or prints hitherto 
unrecognized beyond a small circle of staff members or by the arrival of a new 
and interesting acquisition. 

The first section of essays deals with pictures created between the end of 
the fifteenth century and the year 1800. A wide variety of techniques are repre¬ 
sented here, ranging from an engraving on parchment to chiaroscuro woodcuts, 
from copper engravings and etchings to pen-and-ink drawings. These images 
were produced in continental Europe, in England, and in the United States. 
Many were not produced for aesthetic reasons alone but were created to foster 
religious devotion, to enhance the fame of artists through reproductive engrav¬ 
ings, or to provide decorative patterns for use by goldsmiths, cabinetmakers, 
printers, and other artisans. 

Also covered in this initial section are series of popular prints—those of 
street cries, for example—which served as souvenirs and collectors’ items at the 
time of publication. This graphic folk art increases in interest and value with 
time because it documents clothing, customs, and trades long since vanished 
from our daily experience. Pen-and-ink sketches of guild days celebrated in 
Norwich also afford us a glimpse of eighteenth-century daily life still rooted in 
medieval English tradition. 


vtt 


Architectural plans explored in this section range from a royal project in 
Italy to designs for domestic buildings in the United States. These carefully 
executed pen-and-wash drawings exemplify the work of professional architects 
of the eighteenth century. The work of the Italian Francisco La Vega, as well 
as that of Benjamin Latrobe, is permeated by the ideals of neoclassicism spread¬ 
ing from the continent of Europe throughout the Western world. 

Prints and drawings of the nineteenth century are investigated in the sec¬ 
ond section of essays. The first article is devoted to forty-nine Rembrandt re¬ 
strikes which the author attempts to place in their proper time frame. Rem¬ 
brandt etchings enjoyed a revival of popularity in the beginning of the nine¬ 
teenth century; thus the correct identification of restrikes becomes a challeng¬ 
ing puzzle for the print connoisseur. In the following article we return to Ben¬ 
jamin Latrobe, whose contribution to the design of the U.S. Capitol forms a 
well-documented chapter in the building’s history. The Library is fortunate in 
owning a unique watercolor rendering of Latrobe’s exterior view of the Capitol. 

The invention of lithography in 1798 brought a new versatile technique to 
the aid of book illustrators, advertising artists, political cartoonists, and pub¬ 
lishers of historical and popular prints, who welcomed a quick and inexpen¬ 
sive method of getting their pictures to the public. Several articles explore the 
use of this new vehicle of printmaking. The one on Nicolas-Toussaint Charlet, 
a French illustrator, explains how he used images to express his enthusiasm for 
Napoleon in hundreds of lively scenes of day-to-day life during the reign of 
Bonaparte. In Germany the new method was put to the service of politics. The 
Library’s two broadsides announcing the rise of Prussia were produced to advise 
neighboring countries of an imminent power struggle among the nations of 
Europe. 

In the United States lithography was used to advantage in the newly de¬ 
veloping field of commercial advertising of luxury goods. Examples Of this are 
the colorful tobacco labels treated in the fourth article in this section. These 
images mirror the social concerns of the middle of the nineteenth century, the 
artists having borrowed freely from bookplates, fashion illustrations, and news¬ 
papers of the day. Lithographed letterheads also made their first appearance 
during this period. These tiny pictures of American cities are of historical inter¬ 
est because they capture the cityscapes at a specific period and state of growth 
possibly not documented in any other pictorial source. In contrast to these small 
images, large-size lithographic posters were used to advertise the performing arts. 


The most spectacular advertisements were those announcing the latest events 
in the world of opera, vaudeville, music hall, and circus. 

Schools used lithographic wall charts as aids to object teaching. Industrial 
entrepreneurs and manufacturers of elegant consumer goods used lithographic 
advertisements to publicize items ranging from locomotives and pistols to gas 
“smoothing-irons,” bicycles, and sewing machines. The pictorial essay on women, 
the last article in this section, makes use of many of these lithographs because 
they mirror different facets of the daily activities of the American woman in 
the second half of the nineteenth century. 

The two other essays in this section are devoted to original drawings. The 
Leutze sketchbooks reveal the working methods of an American artist who based 
his murals for the U.S. Capitol on studies made in the American West, while 
a more exotic selection of eyewitness accounts is the Library’s collection of 
Yokohama-e, Japanese ink-and-wash drawings of the first Americans who landed 
in Japan with Commodore Perry in 1853. These images from the Orient fur¬ 
nish an entertaining and revealing view of the way Westerners appeared to 
Japanese observers. The drawings were converted into popular w T oodcuts, and 
many different editions were published in the 1850s before the novelty of the 
subject matter wore off. 

The third section of essays describes prints, drawings, cartoons, and posters 
from the turn of the century to the 1960s. Six of these essays are devoted to 
individual artists. John Singer Sargent used the lithographic medium to de¬ 
velop pictorial ideas later to be translated into larger works. William Glackens 
appears in this sampler as artist-reporter of the Spanish-American War. His 
drawings of the troops in action capture the time and place of the dramatic 
events and point to his later career as a prominent painter of the Ashcan school. 
The Austrian-American composer Arnold Schonberg is discussed here as painter 
of a small work called Vision. This portrait from 1910 is typical of the expres¬ 
sionist style of the period. It is also the visual equivalent of the trends in con¬ 
temporary music. Clifford Kennedy Berryman’s career as political cartoonist 
spans over fifty years of American history, from the 1890s, when cartoons first 
became regular features in American newspapers, through the Truman era. 
His pictorial commentary on Washington politics and the international scene 
provides a visual record of the major issues of the first half of the twentieth 
century. Fritz Eichenberg’s work focuses on the graphic interpretation of some 
of the seminal writers of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. His woodcuts 
capture the essence of a story and translate it into pictorial form. In the essay 


Preface / ix 


included here, Eichenberg explains his working methods and shows us the 
development of an idea from quick, sketchy notation to final finished solution. 
Max Beckmannn’s lithographic sheets for his “Day and Dream” series are an 
expressionistic interpretation of scenes from his life. The artist remains delib¬ 
erately enigmatic, leaving the explanation of his pictures to the imagination of 
the viewer. 

Two articles in this section document the somewhat more lively and topical 
mood of contemporary images. One on Mexican graphic art of the twentieth 
century shows how the graphic work involved brings the national concerns of 
the country into sharp focus. Pre-Columbian and Western stylistic elements are 
fused into a Mexican indigenous expression interpretive of native subjects and 
the aspirations of the people. Modern graphic art has here succeeded in filling 
an artistic as well as a social need. No discussion of twentieth-century visual art 
is complete without some reference to advertising art, which touches the imagi¬ 
nation of more individuals than any other visual art form of our times. Appro¬ 
priately, the last short essay in the section describes a motion-picture poster of 
Charlie Chaplin. 

Although there is no common subject, medium or purpose readily available 
to help us fit the graphics explored by our authors into a comprehensive pattern, 
it is the joy of the Prints and Photographs Division that its collections are rich 
and inexhaustible. This abundance is reflected in the final article on the Library’s 
architectural collections, which discusses the advantages offered to researchers 
in a special subject area by our unparalleled graphic collections. As is so amply 
demonstrated here, they can be explored from many different points of view 
and continually offer the user ever new and fresh images for his inspiration. 


Contents 















Preface VII 

I. Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 
1 

Israhel van Meckenem’s Man of Sorrows, Edgar Breitenbach 2 
The “Pembroke” Album of Chiaroscuros, Alan M. Fern and 
Karen F. Beall 20 

Old Master Prints: Elias Holl the Younger, Edgar Breitenbach 29 

Street Cries in Pictures, Karen F. Beall 38 

Guild Days in Norwich, Edgar Breitenbach 63 

Three Italian Drawings, Edgar Breitenbach 76 

Some Architectural Designs of Latrobe, Fiske Kimball 86 

II. Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 99 
An Album of Rembrandt Restrikes, Karen F. Beall 100 

The Capitol of Jefferson and Latrobe, Virginia Daiker 119 
The Making of a Legend: Nicolas-Toussaint Charlet 
and the Napoleonic Era, Karen F. Beall 131 
Nineteenth Century Tobacco Label Art, Renata V. Shaw 139 
Five Sketchbooks of Emanuel Leutze, Raymond L. Stehle 166 
Caricatures and Cartoons: The 1848 Revolution in Europe, 

Renata V. Shaw 184 


xt 


Historical Prints: Lithographed Letterheads, Milton Kaplan 190 
Japanese Picture Scrolls of the First Americans in Japan, 

Renata V. Shaw 195 

Pictorial Essays on Women. Woman as Homemaker, Wife, Mother, 

Mentor, Breadwinner. Woman on Stage. Woman in Fashion, 
in Sports, in Advertising, Milton Kaplan 221 

III. Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the 
Century to the Sixties 243 

American Artist Prints: John Singer Sargent, Karen F. Beall 244 

Drawings by William Glackens, Alan M. Fern 251 

Arnold Schonberg and the Blaue Reiter, Edgar Breitenbach 262 

The Drawings of C. K. Berryman, Mary R. Mearns 270 

Portrait of the Artist in Love with the Book, Fritz Eichenberg 280 

Max Beckman—Day and Dream, Karen F. Beall 287 

Twentieth Century Mexican Graphic Art, Charles A. Herrington 304 

A Rare Film Poster: Charles Chaplin, Elena G. Millie 313 

Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress, C. Ford Peatross 316 


About the Authors 


365 


I PRINTS AND DRAWINGS FROM THE 


FIFTEENTH CENTURY TO 1800 



2 














Israhel van Meckenem’s Man of Sorrows 


Man of Sorrows. Engraved by Israhel van 
Mechenem (ca. 1444-1503). From the Prints 
and Photographs Division. LC—USZ62—49294. 


by Edgar Breitenbach 


When the Library acquired the Gardiner Greene Hubbard Collection in 1898, 
its first important donation in the field of graphic arts, it received, among many 
other treasures, a fifteenth-century engraving, the significance of which was not 
immediately recognized. 1 Its subject is the Man of Sorrows—the dead Christ 
before the cross, his head resting on his right shoulder, his arms crossed over 
his body. The background is covered with hatched lines, except for the Greek 
initials IS (Iesos) on the left and XC (Christos) on the right. The inscription 
on the titulus is somewhat garbled, indicating that the engraver was not ac¬ 
quainted with Greek letters. It should read: “O Basileus tes doxes” (King of 
Glory). 

The Man of Sorrows does not represent a historic moment in the life of 
Christ, but is rather a symbolic image, a summing up of his Passion. It has its 
origins in Byzantine art and was transmitted to Italy in the twelfth century and 
hence to the rest of Europe. 

The engraving is printed on parchment, a material rarely used for prints 
and always indicative of a special purpose. There are wide margins around the 
print, painted in the manner of a miniature. The motifs consist of precious 
stones and flowers on three sides, while at the bottom there is an inscription in 
gold letters which reads “Orate pro magistro Rutgero de Venlo/Canonico 
Gereonis, sacre pagine licentiato.” 

Rutger de Venlo was a prominent faculty member of Cologne University. 
The matricula of the university mentions him on a number of occasions. 2 A 


5 


native of Louvain, he entered the University of Cologne in 1491 (or possibly in 
1489) and there became magister in 1494 and professor in 1500. His reputation 
grew steadily, until in 1518 he was elevated to the rank of canon of both the 
Stift St. Gereon and of St. Ursula, the latter a famous secular convent for the 
daughters of the high nobility of the Rhineland. 3 Finally, in 1519 he became 
Rektor, the elected head of the university. Rutger de Venlo died on April 29, 
1525. The obsequies took place on May 18, and it is assumed that the print was 
made for this occasion, most likely in compliance with the canon’s will. It was 
customary among the clergy of St. Gereon to leave money to the Stift as an 
offering to the priests for memorial masses celebrated for their benefit when 
deceased. 4 

We can now return to our print, first to establish the artist and then to 
trace the history of the subject matter. In the fairly large body of literature on 
the iconography of the Man of Sorrows, 5 most scholars mention this print, and 
some reproduce it. The engraver is Israhel van Meckenem (ca. 1444-1503), who 
created more images of the Man of Sorrows than any of his German contem¬ 
poraries. It has been described by Max Lehrs in his catalog of Israhel van 
Meckenem’s prints under No. 166. 6 Lehrs knew two states of the print, generally 
assumed to have been made about 1495. 7 According to Fritz Koreny, 8 the 
Library’s copy is a late impression of a hitherto unknown third state, apparently 
made after Israhel's death. At that time the plate was so worn that it was re¬ 
engraved within the contours of Israhel’s original design, a testimony to the 
immense popularity of the print. I assume that the inscription underneath the 
plate seen in the earlier states was eliminated in the process, for reasons I shall 
discuss later. 

Israhel’s print is not original, but, as the inscription (seen on the second 
state) indicates, a faithful rendering of a picture that shows a vision of Christ, 
which, according to legend, appeared to Pope Gregory the Great. On Israhel’s 
other print of the same image, the place where the picture is kept is given: the 
church of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme in Rome. 

In a brilliant essay Carlo Bertelli recently traced the history of this picture, 
which is actually a small, portable mosaic. Bertelli makes it highly plausible that 
the mosaic was made in a Latin outpost of the Byzantine empire during the 
late thirteenth or early fourteenth century. It was presented to the monastery 
of St. Catherine on Mount Sinai and later taken from there by Raimondello 
Orsini del Balzo, Count of Lecce, when he visited the Sinai in 1380 or 1381. 9 He 
in turn presented it to Santa Croce in 1385 or 1386. There the mosaic joined the 


4 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 



moan: 
ar ifn c 


;r '/mago rdhrfarfarat] 

-cmi rnITi”nr f ! a ^ <, ff l injsp?p? t- - 


Hraaf. 

inCnmrrn 


Man of Sorrows. Second state. Israhel van 
Meckenem. Courtesy Cabinet des Estampes, 
Bibliotheqe nationale. 


great treasure of relics displayed in the subterranean “chapel Jerusalem,” the 
pavement of which covers earth brought from Golgotha. “Even the ‘Gregorian’ 
mosaic, as a replica of a well-known icon in the church of the Holy Sepulchre 
in Jerusalem . . ., enhanced the ideal connections of the ‘chapel Jerusalem’ with 
the Holy City. In fact, it might have been presented precisely to this shrine just 
because of its connections with the Sepulchrum Domini” 10 

The church of Santa Croce was taken over in 1371 by the Carthusian monks, 
who established a charterhouse next to it. It should be realized that religious 
institutions have their secular, as well as their spiritual, aspects. Services to the 
faithful, buildings and their upkeep, growth in general, all require a steady in¬ 
come. In the late Middle Ages such income was derived from land and houses 
owned by a church (rents, tithes, agricultural products) and from gifts of parish¬ 
ioners and pilgrims. 

To attract people, relics and reputedly miracle-working images were of 
enormous importance, particularly if papal blessings and indulgences had been 
bestowed on them. It was the latter that the errant faithful were seeking. The 
urgent desire to free oneself from sin and thus shorten the pains of purgatory 
manifested itself most strongly in the rumor circulating in December 1299 that 
anyone visiting St. Peter’s on New Year’s Day of the new century would receive 
full absolution. Pope Boniface VIII felt compelled to give substance to the 
rumor, thus starting the tradition of the Jubilee Years, which at that time were 
intended to celebrate the beginning of each century. But the enormous success 
of this event, from the point of view of both clergy and laity, prompted Clement 
VI to pronounce 1350 as the second Jubilee Year. 11 Two papal bulls are con¬ 
nected with this year, a genuine one of 1343, Unigenitus Dei filius, and a 
spurious one, Ad memoriam reducendo, which was widely circulated. Concocted 
sometime between 1350 and the Jubilee Year of 1400, it nevertheless claimed 
Clement VI as its author. This bull contains two passages of importance to our 
subject. It mentions for the first time the nonpatriarchal basilicas, with Santa 
Croce heading the list, that pilgrims to Rome should visit to gain full absolu¬ 
tion, and it is “the first bull to guarantee indulgences to pilgrims who would 
look with devotion at some of the venerated images in Rome.” 12 

It will be remembered that Israhel van Meckenem’s print referred in its 
inscription to Pope Gregory’s vision while he was celebrating mass. This vision 
is not mentioned in accounts of the life of the pope nor has it dogmatic roots, 
but the legend seems to have developed from folk belief around 1400. None of 
the early representations of the Mass of St. Gregory indicates Santa Croce as the 


Israhel van Meckenem’s Man of Sorrows / 5 
















Image of Pity. Mosaic, with silver frame. 
Byzantine, early fourteenth century. At 
Rome, Sta. Croce in Gerualemme. Courtesy 
Instituto centrale del restauro, Archivio 
fotografico, Rome. 

6 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth 





r v > r< 




Century to 1800 















Image of Pity. English, fifteenth century. In 
Carthusian manuscript. Courtesy British 
Museum. 


place of the vision; it is, in fact, mentioned for the first time on the other 
Meckenem print (Lehrs, No. 107). There is, however, sufficient evidence that 
the Carthusian order, anxious to help its new charterhouse in Rome, was busily 
engaged in spreading the belief that Santa Croce was, indeed, the scene of the 
vision, implying that the portable mosaic was the visual rendering of St. Gre¬ 
gory’s vision. 13 One of the great masterpieces of French fifteenth-century painting, 
Enguerrand Charonton’s Crowning of the Virgin, commissioned in 1453 by the 
Carthusian monks of Villeneuve-les-Avignon, depicts the vision of St. Gregory 
while he was celebrating mass in the church of Santa Croce. 14 

Further evidence of Carthusian efforts to propagate their claims is found in 
England. According to Campbell Dodgson, the Man of Sorrows is the most fre¬ 
quently recurring subject among the English woodcuts of the later fifteenth cen¬ 
tury. 15 Dodgson already noticed the connection of several of them with the 
Carthusian Order, and Bertelli found more examples, the most important being 
an English fifteenth-century Carthusian manuscript 16 containing an extremely 
accurate rendering of the Santa Croce mosaic obviously intended to serve as a 
model for artists. At least one of the woodcuts reproduced by Dodgson, although 
technically quite awkward, shows how closely the model was followed. 

Since Israhel van Meckenem’s print is an equally faithful rendering of the 
Roman original, we must assume that he, too, had a similar drawing at his dis¬ 
posal, and that the Carthusian network was as active in Germany as it was in 
England. 

The Gregorian Man of Sorrows was closely connected with the granting— 
and abuse—of indulgences, one of the major causes of the rift between Protes¬ 
tants and Catholics. Rutger de Venlo died eight years after Martin Luther 
nailed his famous proclamation to the doors of the Schlosskirche at Wittenberg. 
Although Cologne remained loyal to the Catholic cause, it is likely that the in¬ 
scription beneath the print was eliminated because in view of the changing 
times, the connection with the pope’s vision no longer seemed appropriate. The 
extraordinary benefits claimed for indulgences associated with the Gregorian 
Man of Sorrows—14,000 years for five Pater Nosters and five Ave Marias recited 
kneeling—were common knowledge and were obviously the reason why the 
subject was chosen by Rutger. 17 

The records kept by the Stift St. Gereon during the time Rutger served as a 
canon do not in the least reflect the great religious and social upheavals of the pe¬ 
riod. Life in St. Gereon evidently went on quite unchanged. Thus it is not sur¬ 
prising that a print that is essentially medieval would have appealed to Rutger. 


Israhel van Meckenem’s Man of Sorrows / 7 





















The third state of Israhel van Meckenem’s Man of Sorrows, though rare 
and possibly unique, is merely a shadow of what the artist had intended. Its 
value lies not in its esthetic merits but in the documentary evidence it provides. 


NOTES !• The print is described in U.S. Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division . . . 

Catalog of the Gardiner Greene Hubbard collection of engravings . . . compiled by Arthur 
Jeffrey Parsons (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1905), p. 368, as an anonymous 
fifteenth-century Italian engraving, and its inscription was misread in the key words. 

2. Die Matrikel der Universitdt, ed. Hermann Keussen, 3 vols. (Bonn: P. Hanstein, 1919-31), 
1:54, 99; 2:99, 293, 815; 3:62. 

3. Compare Gertrud Wegener, Geschichte des Stiftes St. Ursula in Koln (Cologne: H. 
Wamper, 1971). 

4. Compare Johannes Christian Nattermann, Die goldenen Heiligen, Geschichte des Stiftes 
St. Gereon zu Koln (Cologne: Verlag Der Lowe, 1960) . (Veroffentlichungen des Kolner 
Geschichtsvereins, 22). The author gives excerpts from the will of Canon Leonhard Maess, a 
contemporary of Rutger. It stipulated that immediately upon his death thirty masses be read, 
that during his obsequies sixty more be celebrated, and that memorial services be held in other 
Cologne churches; finally, that memorial masses be read once a month for a whole year at 
St. Gereon. The proliferation of memorial masses, requiring an inordinate number of priests, 
became such a serious problem that the Municipal Council of Cologne tried to impose a 
limitation on them, but without success. Compare pp. 355-6; for a similar case, compare p. 276. 

5. The most recent and most complete bibliography on the subject can be found in Carlo 
Bertelli, “The Image of Pity in Santa Croce in Gerusalemme’’ in Essays in the History of Art 
Presented to Rudolf Wittkower (London: Phaidon, 1967), pp. 40-55. I want to thank Prof. 
Tilmann Buddensieg of the Freie Universitat, Berlin, for having brought this essay to my 
attention. 

6. Max Lehrs, Geschichte und Kritischer Katalog des deutschen, niederldndischen und 
franzosischen Kupferstichs im XV Jahrhundert, 9 vols. (Vienna: Gesellschaft fur vervielfal- 
tigende Kunst, 1908-34) , 9. 

7. I wish to thank Jean Adhemar, conservateur en chef of the Cabinet des Estampes, 
Bibliotheque nationale, Paris, for having supplied a photograph of this print and for his 
permission to publish it. 

8. I wish to thank Fritz Koreny of the Graphische Sammlung Albertina in Vienna for 
his assistance. Dr. Koreny, who wrote his doctoral dissertation on Israhel van Meckenem, is 
preparing a book on the artist. 


8 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


9. The prize he carried away on this visit was the finger of St. Catherine with the ring, 
which, according to legend, Christ himself had placed there. If some sources are to be believed, 
he bit off the finger from the hand. The relic can still be seen in the church of Santa Caterina 
which Raimondello built at Galatina, where he lived. 

10. Bertelli, p. 51. 

11. The interval was further reduced in 1389 to thirty-three years, the assumed length of 
the earthly life of Christ, until in 1470 Pope Paul II fixed the intervals at twenty-five years, 
as it has been ever since. 

12. On the subject of Gregorian indulgences, compare Bertelli, p. 51, and Nikolaus Paulus, 
Geschichte des Ablasses im Mittelalter, 3 vols. (Paderbom: F. Schoningh, 1922-23), 3:294. 

13. Bertelli, p. 41, refers to “the superstitious belief that the mosaic itself had been com¬ 
posed by Pope Gregory with his own hands, using fragments of bones of the martyrs (a tale 
which I myself heard related by a sacristan of our own days).” 

14. Bertelli, p. 47. 

15. Campbell Dodgson, “English Devotional Woodcuts of the late fifteenth Century, With 
Special Reference to Those in the Bodleian Library” in The Walpole Society 17 (1928-29) : 
95-100. 

16. British Museum MS., Add 37049; Bertelli, p. 48. 

17. The number of years allegedly granted varies between 14,000 years in Rome and 
32,755 years in England. Compare P. Romuald Bauerreiss. “Der ‘gregorianische’ Schmerzens- 
mann und das ‘Sacramentum S. Gregorii’ in Andechs” in Studien und Mitteilungen zur Ge¬ 
schichte des Benediktiner Ordens, N.F. 13, 1926, p. 61; Dodgson, p. 99; Paulus, Geschichte 
des Ablasses, 3:294. The careless handling of indulgences in the decades preceding the Reforma¬ 
tion is particularly evident on two other Meckenem prints, both showing the Mass of St. Gregory: 
one promises 20,000 years of indulgences for seven Pater Nosters and seven Aves (Lehrs, No. 
354) ; the other (Lehrs, No. 353) offers double the number of years for the same number of 
prayers. 


Israhel van Meckenem’s Man of Sorrows \ 9 


The “Pembroke” Album of Chiaroscuros 


by Alan M. Fern and Karen F. Beall 


Facing page: Chiaroscuro woodcut in three 
blocks by Girolamo Bolsi, depicting Barto¬ 
lommeo Neroni’s stage set for L’Ortensio, 
designed for a festival in Siena in 1560. 
Published by Andrea Andreani in 1589. 


Fifty years ago the Library of Congress purchased an album of color prints 
from a London dealer. On its golden anniversary in the Library, this album has 
become the object of considerable scholarly interest since a few of the prints it 
contains have turned out to be both scarce and important. Moreover, the album 
is associated with a distinguished and fascinating group of collectors. This would 
seem amply to justify our taking this occasion to publish a few notes about it 
and its contents in order to make this collection better known to scholars of 
printmaking. 

It is not surprising that so little attention was paid to the album when it 
first arrived in the Library of Congress. Most of the woodcuts it contains were 
made in the first half of the sixteenth century in Italy, a period until recently 
out of fashion among art historians; today, Italian “Mannerist” artists are seen 
with new eyes, so that the work of the followers of Raphael and Michelangelo, 
Parmigianino and Beccafumi, is regarded as a powerful and fascinating develop¬ 
ment in late Renaissance art. Furthermore, half a century ago the woodcut was 
as little appreciated as a medium for original printmaking as were the Italian 
Mannerists as original artists. Photography had but recently supplanted wood 
engraving as the primary means for the reproduction of pictures in printed 
books and magazines, and the tremendous achievements of printmakers like 
Edvard Munch and Paul Gauguin in woodcut were barely recognized by writers 
on the graphic arts, who preferred the etchings of Charles Meryon or the dry- 
points of Anders Zorn. 


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T/ie “Pembroke” Album of Chiaroscuros / 11 























































































































































































The History of Chiaroscuro 
Woodblock Prints 


The chairoscuro woodcut of Pan, upper left 
on the facing page, and the drawing by 
Parmigianini, right on facing page, illustrate 
the way Italian artists adapted the original 
motifs of drawings to the medium of the 
woodcut. The print, probably by Ugo da 
Carpi, is no. 22 in the Pembroke Album, and 
the drawing is int he Caginet des dessins of 
the Louvre, Paris. 


From the very beginning, the woodcut seems to have been condemned to play 
the double role of reproductive medium and original printmaking technique. 
When it first made its appearance in Europe, probably in the late fourteenth 
century, the woodcut was used for such utilitarian purposes as the production of 
patterned textiles and the illustration of broadsheets. 1 In the fifteenth century, 
Albrecht Diirer was one of the earliest artists to produce both intaglio and wood- 
block prints, and he seems to have had no scruple about turning the execution 
of his woodcuts over to professional engravers in contrast to his practice with 
etchings and engravings. As an adjunct to book production the profession of 
wood engraving enjoyed its own guild organization in the fifteenth century, and 
for 150 years rivaled engraving on metal as a lucrative occupation for the 
craftsman. 

Printing in color 2 had been known since at least 1457, when the printers 
Fust and Schoffer produced two-color initials in the Mainz Psalter by a complex 
process. By the end of the century, several German artists had introduced color 
into their prints, sometimes through such simple devices as the use of colored 
papers or—like Erhard Ratdolt in the 1490s—through the use of several blocks 
successively printed in different colors. Hand coloring was a common way of 
enlivening printed pictures in the fifteenth century, and much of the earliest 
color printing imitated the “local color” of the hand-painted print. 

Shortly after the beginning of the sixteenth century, however, a different 
approach was taken by a few German printmakers. The design was cut in wood 
to be printed in black, but a second block was also used, to be printed in a 
neutral or background color behind the key (or outline) block; highlights were 
cut away on this tint block so that the white of the paper served as a third 
color in the finished print. This process, which effectively imitated the appear¬ 
ance of the drawing on toned paper heightened with white paint, came to be 
called the chiaroscuro (or light-and-dark) print. 

The new technique was almost immediately utilized for the reproduction 
of drawings by a few printmakers in Italy. Drawings were treasured as works 
of art, and the desire to possess reproductions of the works of great masters was 
as strong then as it is now; the chiaroscuro print was the Skira or Jaffe reproduc¬ 
tion of the sixteenth century, and these prints were treasured by collectors who 
could not actually acquire drawings by all the artists they admired. 

In 1516 the Venetian Senate received from Ugo da Carpi (ca. 1480-1523 
or —1532) a petition for the grant of exclusive rights to the production of 
chiaroscuro prints. 3 In his petition, Ugo claimed that he had invented the 


12 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 




process, and although this was not strictly true he had in fact used the tech¬ 
nique in a different fashion than had his German predecessors. Ugo da Carpi 
and the Italian chiaroscurists who followed him relied far less on a key block 
to define the composition of their prints. Instead, they built their pictures out 
of three or four successive tone blocks, achieving an effect closer to the subtle 
tonal modulation of a wash drawing than was the practice in Germany. Usually 
the blocks were printed in related colors (several shades of green, brown, or 
grey, for example), but occasionally, a striking effect was achieved through the 
use of startling contrasts of hue. As in the German prints, the tone of the paper 
shows through the background block, to serve as highlights. 

Ugo da Carpi is the earliest, and possibly the most accomplished, of the 
artists represented in the Library’s album, but the others are just as interesting. 
Domenico Beccafumi (1486-1551) was renowned as a painter and draftsman. 
Antonio da Trento (1508—50) was a brilliant craftsman and possibly a rogue. 4 
Bartolommeo Coriolano (1599-1676) and Andrea Andreani (1540?—1623) were 
both important figures in the history of calligraphy as well as printmaking; 
Andreani republished prints made by a number of his predecessors after some¬ 
how acquiring their blocks (which he altered by inserting his own initials as a 
signature) . 5 

All that has been said about the reproductive function of the chiaroscuro 
print should not be taken to imply that these were merely mindless copies. On 
the contrary, even though the original motifs of these prints—the composition, 
general distribution of light and dark, and the postures of the figures—were 
taken from the drawings of other artists, the printmakers were actually con¬ 
cerned with making an equivalent for the drawing rather than a facsimile. 
There was a conscious accommodation of the quality of the medium to the print 
being produced, and as a result many characteristics of the original drawing 
were altered in order to produce a handsome and eloquent print. 

As the chiaroscuro print became more popular some artists even designed 
drawings expressly for production in this medium. Parmigianino, for example, 
is known to have organized a workshop devoted to the production of prints 
after his drawings; the drawings he intended for publication as chiaroscuros 
were made in broad areas of wash, while his pen and ink drawings were pub¬ 
lished as etchings and engravings. 6 In other instances, such direct supervision by 
the artist was not possible; the prints after Raphael’s cartoons for the tapestries 
in the Sistine Chapel, for example, were published after Raphael’s death and 
are so different from the drawings in scale, color, and dramatic impact that it 


The “Pembroke” Album of Chiaroscuros / 13 






















is obvious the original artist never had this adaptation in mind. But the prints 
themselves are handsome and effective works of art, bearing testimony to the 
artistry of the printmaker. 

Before turning to the album itself, it might be of interest to note that the 
technique of chiaroscuro printmaking continued to be practiced well into the 
eighteenth century, after which it was supplanted by the color aquatint, prints 
in the “crayon manner,” and—finally—by photoengravings as a reproductive 
medium. Chiaroscuro has been revived as a medium for original printmaking 
in this century, by such artists as Charles Shannon and William Nicholson at 
the beginning of the century, and by Leonard Baskin today. 


The technique of creating a chiaroscuro wood- 
cut, using several blocks printed in different 
colors, is illustrated by the individual proofs 
of each block and the final print shown below. 
Reproduced from J. M. Papillon’s Traite 
historique et pratique de la gravure en bois 
(volume 2, between pages 154 and 155). 
published in Paris in 1786 by P.-G. Simon. 



14 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 










The “Pembroke” Album 


In June 1918 the Library of Congress purchased item 148 in Maggs Brothers’ 
catalog 364. This was described as “engraving in chiaroscuro. A Remarkable 
Collection of 90 Original Engravings ... by the Early Masters of the Art, com¬ 
prising examples by Hugo de Carpi . . . Andreani . . . Coriolano . . . and 
others; the whole mounted in a large folio scrap book, bound in old English 
red morocco gilt. A most unusual collection of exceedingly rare and interesting 
engravings from the famous collection of the Earl of Pembroke.” After a few 
more sentences of general description, the prints are listed except for “several 
which are not identified.” 7 

This is almost accurate, but a number of other observations about the physi- 



The “Pembroke” Album of Chiaroscuros / 15 














cal characteristics of the book might have been included. It is a collection of 
leaves 44.5 by 35 centimeters in size, in a binding about 2 centimeters larger 
in each dimension. On the spine is lettered: “cut in wood / the 5 chie [evi¬ 
dently “Chief”; see below] masters / vol: viii.” On the lower left corner of the 
front of the binding is a sticker with the number 306 (a sales label, as we shall 
show in a moment). The end sheets are marbled paper, awkwardly pieced to¬ 
gether (in keeping with the unsophisticated workmanship of the binding), and 
on the first leaf is written: “Vol. 8th. 32 Double prints taken out—1773—.” 
In support of this are twenty-eight blank leaves from which prints have evi¬ 
dently been cut away, and a number of stubs of pages which were completely 
removed, virtually all of these at the end of the album. Actually, ninety one 
prints are in the album. 

The paper used in the album carries a watermark consisting of a fleur-de- 
lis in a cartouche, surmounted by a crown, with the cipher “WR” beneath. C. M. 
Briquet associates the cipher with the successors to the firm of Wendelin Riehel 
of Strasbourg, 8 and the Baron del Marmol, who reproduces a similar watermark 
on plate 56 of his Dictionnaire des Filigranes , 9 dates it as following 1690. On 
the other side of each folio sheet is the watermark “VI” in open capitals. 

Moreover, two of the prints (see list below) carry the collector’s mark of 
Prosper Henry Lankrink (Lugt 2090) ; 10 otherwise, none of the prints bears 
an ownership mark of any kind. 


The Puzzle of Provenance The collection of the Earls of Pembroke was sold at auction at Sotheby’s in 

London on July 5 and 6, 1917, and the album just described was lot 306 of the 
second day’s sale. 11 It seems likely that Maggs acquired the book at that time, 
but how the prints came into the Pembroke collection—or how long they had 
been there—remains a matter for conjecture. 

In the Pembroke sale were eighteen volumes of prints, in addition to a 
number of separate items, and fifteen of these albums were numbered (from 
I to XIV, with vol. XIII in two parts) ; three other albums were miscellaneous 
groups of engravings. Lot 306 is volume VIII; it remains for us to discover the 
present locations of the other albums. All the albums were described by 
Sotheby as “Mounted in old Folio Volumes (early part of the eighteenth cen¬ 
tury) , whole-bound smooth red morocco, gilt back and sides.” 12 


16 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


The Pembroke family were statesmen and soldiers, patrons of the arts and 
collectors, and enjoyed connections with painters like Prosper Henry Lankrink 
and Sir Peter Lely, with Shakespeare, and with Oxford University. 13 At Wilton, 
the family seat near Salisbury, a distinguished collection had been amassed over 
the years, but portions of it seem to have been imperfectly inventoried. Part of 
the difficulty in tracing the lineage of the Library’s album is that none of the 
works of graphic art at Wilton was cataloged up to the time of the sale (the 
remaining prints and drawings have been), and since the fifteenth Earl dis¬ 
approved of the practice of marking prints, none of the items was imprinted 
with the Wilton Library stamp. 14 

One turns to earlier collections hoping for a clue to the presence of a large 
group of chiaroscuro prints that an earlier Lord Pembroke might have acquired, 
but here again records are inadequate for the purpose. 

We know, for example, that at least two of the prints in the Library’s 
album had been in the possession of Prosper Henry Lankrink (1628-92). Lan¬ 
krink was a painter of German extraction and Netherlandish training who came 
to England as a young man. 15 

He was an assistant to Sir Peter Lely and an associate of Horace Walpole, 
who epitomized him as a good collector who “bought much at Lely’s sale, for 
which he borrowed money of Mr. Austen; to discharge which debt Lankrink’s 
collection was seized after his death, and sold. He went deep into the pleasures 
of that age, grew idle, and died in 1692, in Covent Garden, and was buried at 
his own request under the porch of that church.” 16 Lankrink was not only a 
buyer at the Lely sale, he was one of the organizers of it in 1688. Although 
scarce, copies of the catalogs of the sales of Lely and Lankrink have survived 
and have been reprinted; 17 the paintings are listed by artist and title, but the 
prints and drawings possessed by these artist-collectors are not enumerated. Thus, 
it is impossible to say precisely where Lankrink acquired his chiaroscuro prints, 
whether Lely was the source (although his enthusiasm for Italian art makes 
this likely), and who purchased the prints at the Lankrink sales in 1693 and 
1694. It is interesting to note in this connection that a number of the separate 
Italian engravings in the Pembroke sale are listed as coming from the Lely 
collection, evidently because these prints bore Lely’s mark. 

Spine of Pembroke Album. One of the later buyers of objects from the Lely and Lankrink sales was 

Hugh Howard (1675-1737), a painter of Irish origin who came to England in 
1688, just at the time of the Lely auction, joined the party of the Earl of Pem¬ 
broke who was then Minister Plenipotentiary to the Peace Conference in 



The “Pembroke” Album of Chiaroscuros / 17 

















Above, a drawing by Domenico Beccafumi in 
crayon and ink, heightened with white, 
depicting three figures variously described as 
river gods and as Old Testament personages, 
and above right, an engraved early state of the 
print based upon the drawing. Both are 
reproduced from the Delia E. Holden Collec¬ 
tion in the Cleveland Museum of Art. 


Rijswijk, Holland, and traveled on the Continent until 1700. 18 After his return 
to England he became a noted portrait painter who counted Pembroke among 
his patrons, enjoyed several royal posts, and became wealthy enough to amass 
a collection guided, as Frits Lugt says, by his excellent taste. 

Lugt writes that in the Sotheby sale of December 12, 1873, and the week 
following, of the collection assembled by Howard and retained by his family 
for more than a century and a half, there were (among other prints) “une serie 
presque complete des clairs-obscurs de da Carpi, Andreani, etc., une pi£ce non 
decrite par Bartsch.” 19 Considering that in the Library’s album, just before the 
pages bearing the prints, is written in an eighteenth-century hand: “Vol: VIII. 
The 5 Chief who Cut in Wood, and only after Great Italian Painters, all that 
they did both single and as Intire Books,” it might be inferred that this inscrip¬ 
tion was the source for the claim by the describer of the Howard collection that 
it contained an “almost complete series” of the chiaroscurists. Actually, the group 
is anything but complete, although it is extensive; at least one of the prints, 
however, is in fact not described in Bartsch’s catalog. 

The date of the paper makes it almost impossible for Lankrink to have 
assembled the album, and the binding is clearly of early eighteenth-century 
manufacture. The album might have been assembled by Hugh Howard, but if 
this is true then Howard must have also put together the fourteen other albums 
in the Pembroke series, since these are numbered in sequence. One fact suggests 
that Howard did not do this. 


18 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 







Shown below is the final state of the print, in 
which tones have been added to the engraving 
by the chiaroscuro block. It is no. 49 in the 
Library’s Pembroke Album. 


Lugt writes of the albums of drawings sold in the 1917 Pembroke sale that 
they were “toujours conserves dans quatre albums relies en maroquin, dates 
novembre 1772. Une inscription sur le quatrieme dit que les dessins qu’il con- 
tient proviennent des trois autres ‘to prevent injury by their being too 
crowded.’ ” 20 This sounds remarkably like the note (dated 1773) in the Library’s 
album and would seem to suggest that, like the albums of drawings, this vol¬ 
ume of prints was assembled according to normal procedure in the library at 
Wilton by the eighth, ninth, or tenth Earl of Pembroke. This is as far as we 
can go with certainty, given the evidence in our hands at this time. 



The “Pembroke” Album of Chiaroscuros / 19 





At the end of this article is appended a list that will at least provide tentative 
The Prints titles and attributions for the ninety one prints in the Pembroke Album. Al¬ 

though several scholars have recently published detailed research into the work 
of some of the artists and engravers who produced chiaroscuro prints, the entire 
field demands more thorough investigation. Some of the prints in the album 
have not been reconsidered since Adam Bartsch published his catalog in the 
early nineteenth century. 

The list will show that Parmigianino is associated with more than a third 
of the prints in the collection, trailed by Guido Reni, Beccafumi, and Raphael 
among the “inventors” or original artists of the prints. Ugo da Carpi is the 
printmaker most fully represented, with more than twenty of his chiaroscuros 
in the album, followed by Coriolano with sixteen prints, mostly after Guido 
Reni. 

The problem of attribution is not simplified by the presence of a number 
of prints bearing Andreani’s monogram but which are known to exist in other 
states, bearing the signatures of other artists. These are identified in our list as 
“monogram of Andreani,” but we have endeavored to locate the original print- 
maker as well. Prints in the album which also exist in a state bearing Andreani’s 
monogram are described as “republished by Andreani.” 

The greater portion of the prints are explicitly religious or mythological in 
subject, but there are a number of intriguing exceptions—among them some of 
the scarcest prints in the album. 

A group of figures by Beccafumi, for instance, is known in only one other 
example (in Siena) in this state. The drawing upon which the print is based 
and an early state of the print, without the tone block, are in the Cleveland Art 
Museum and have been published by Louise S. Richards. 21 The figures have 
been described as river gods and as Old Testament personages. There appears 
to be a relationship between these and Beccfumi’s designs for the pavement of 
the Cathedral in Siena. 

Another fascinating print in the album depicts the stage setting of 
L’Ortensio, designed for a ducal wedding festivity in 1560 (also in Siena) by 
Bartolommeo Neroni (called “Li Riccio”), and cut on wood by Girolamo Bolsi 
in 1589. We have located copies of this print only in the British Museum and 
in the Bertarelli Collection (Sforzesco Palace) in Milan; both of these copies 
carry a long inscription by Andreani, the publisher of the print, describing the 
subject and crediting the designer and engraver. 

We have already mentioned the fact that these chiaroscuro woodcuts were 


20 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


The Miraculous Draught of Fishes, shown first 
as a cartoon in gouache over charcoal, done 
by Raphael for a tapestry in the Sistine 
Chapel, about 1516, and second as a chiaro¬ 
scuro woodcut in three blocks by Ugo da 
Carpi. Measuring 10 feet 3\/ 2 inches by 13 feet 
1 inch, the cartoon was too large to reverse by 
tracing it directly on the woodblock, as in the 
case of the Parmigianino drawing shown in 
this article. The cartoon is in the Victoria and 
Albert Museum in London, and the woodcut, 
which bears the monogram (1609) of Andrea 
Andreani, is no. 55 in the Pembroke Album. 


adapted from a variety of sources. The Library’s album includes three prints 
after Raphael’s tapestries for the Sistine Chapel (or their designs, now in the 
Victoria and Albert Museum, London), and they provide a striking example of 
the broadening and simplification inherent in the translation from drawing to 
chiaroscuro print. Mary Pittaluga 22 has identified several of the drawings for 
other chiaroscuro prints, and has compared the prints derived from them in a 
critical article; even if one cannot agree with her that the prints are without 
merit in comparison with the drawings—perhaps the loss of subtlety is offset by 
a gain in robustness—it is valuable to be able to study the process of translation 
at first hand. 

The Pembroke Album also contains several proofs of “key blocks,” showing 
the design in black before the addition of the colored tint blocks to the finished 
print. These, too, are valuable tools to the student of printmaking, as are the 
several versions of the same subject (album numbers 46 and 47, for example), 
the reversed copies, and other variations on the same motif that can tell us 
much about how these prints were conceived. 



The " Pembroke " Album of Chiaroscuros / 21 




This is a glimpse at a very rich collection of comparatively uncommon 
sixteenth-century prints. We are just beginning to learn more about them, and 
to be guided by our colleagues who have already studied this area more thor¬ 
oughly than we. It is our hope that this listing of the prints in the Library’s 
“Pembroke” Album may help to advance the study of chiaroscuro printmaking. 


NOTES L The First Century of Printmaking, 1400-1500 (Chicago: Art Institute of Chicago, 1941). 

Les Plus Belles Gravures du Monde Occidental (Munich, Paris, Amsterdam, Vienna: 1965-66) , 
p. 5. Arthur M. Hind, An Introduction to a History of the Woodcut (London: Constable and 
Co., 1935) ; Pierre Gusman, La Gravure sur Bois . . ., 2 vols. (Paris: R. Roger et F. Chernoviz, 
1916). 

2. Color in Prints, edited by E. Haverkamp-Begemann [New Haven, Conn.: Yale University 
Art Gallery 1962; Yale Art Gallery Bulletin 27, no. 3, and 28, no. 1 (1962).] See also the many 
articles cited in the bibliographic notes to this catalog, and Jacob Kainen, John Baptist Jackson 
(Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution, 1962; United States National Museum Bulletin no. 
222), especially pp. 7-12. 

3. Institut neerlandais, Paris, Clairs-Obscurs, exhibit catalog (Paris: 1965) . See also Color 
in Prints, p. 13, and works cited in the bibliographic entry in this catalog above no. 10. 

4. The drawings of Parmigianino were evidently so desirable that Antonio da Trento, who 
was then working under Parmigianino’s direction in Bologna, disappeared about 1530 (accord¬ 
ing to Vasari) with a number of drawings as well as engraved copper plates and w r oodblocks; 
the printmaking materials w ? ere recovered, but the drawings—and Antonio—never reappeared. 
Giorgio Vasari, Lives of the Most Eminent Painters, vol. 5, (London: Philip Lee Warner for 
the Medici Society, 1913-14) , pp. 249-50. See also S. J. Freedberg, Parmigianino: His Works in 
Painting (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1950) , p. 181. A. E. Popham, The 
Drawings of Parmigianino (London: Faber and Faber, 1953) , pp. 35 and 47; and Konrad 
Oberhuber, Parmigianino und sein Kreis (Vienna: Albertina, 1963) . 

5. Color in Prints, p. 17, and Giovanni Copertini, II Parmigianino, vol. 2, (Parma: Mario 
Fresching Editore, 1933-39), p. 45, n. 4. 

6. Ibid., n. 11; Popham, p. 29. 

7. Maggs Bros., Incunabula . . . Manuscripts . . . Woodcut Illustrated Books of the XVth 
and XVIth Centuries, catalog no. 364 (London: 1918), pp. 36-38. 

8. C. M. Briquet, Les Filigranes, vol. 2, (Paris: Alphonse Picard et Fils [et al.], 1907), 
p. 395. 

9. Baron F. del Marmol, Dictionnaire des Filigranes (Paris: Marchal et Billard, 1900) . 


22 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


10. Frits Lugt, Les Marques des collections (Amsterdam; Vereenigde Drukerijen, 1921), 
p. 386. 

11 .Sotheby, Wilkinson, and Hodge, London, sale of July 5-6, 9-10, 1917; second day, p. 32. 

12. Ibid., p. 21. 

13. Frits Lugt Les Marques des collections . . . Supplement (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 
1956), pp. 377-378. 

14. Ibid., p. 378. 

15. Lugt, Marques, pp. 386-87. 

16. Horace Walpole, Anecdotes of Painting in England (London: Ward, Lock and Co., 
[1879?], pp. 229-30. 

17. “Sir Peter Lely’s Collection,” The Burlington Magazine 83 (August 1943) ; 185-91. 
Prints are only mentioned on page 188: “As also a great Quantity of Prints of Mark Anthony, 
and others the most Curious.” Note by Henry and Margaret Ogden in The Burlington Magazine 
84 (June 1944) : 154. “P. H. Lankrink’s Collection,” The Burlington Magazine 86 (February 
1945) :29^35. See also Lugt, Repertoire des catalogues des ventes, vol. 1, (The Hague: Martinus 
Nijhoff 1936), entry 142, and Lugt, Marques, pp. 388-89. 

18. Lugt, Marques, p. 550. 

19. Ibid. 

20. Lugt, Marques . . . Supplement, p. 378. 

21. Louise S. Richards, "River Gods’ by Domenico Beccafumi,” The Bulletin of the Cleve¬ 
land Museum of Art 46 (February 1959) :24-29. 

22. Mary Pittaluga, "Disegni del Parmigianino e Corrispondenti Chiaroscuri Cinquecentes- 
chi,” Dedalo (Milan and Rome) 9 (June 1928) :30-40. 


Prints in the “Pembroke” Album 
A Revised List by Alan M. Fern and Karen F. Beall 


One of the purposes of a scholarly journal is to increase man’s knowledge. In 
its silver anniversary issue of January 1969, the Quarterly Journal of the Library 
of Congress published an article on the “Pembroke” album of chiaroscuro wood- 
cuts by Alan M. Fern and Karen F. Beall. The purpose of such articles fre¬ 
quently is to provoke responses in the hope of bringing additional information 
to light. Thus, the list below is a revised version of the one that accompanied 


The “Pembroke ” Album of Chiaroscuros / 23 


the original article. Most of the corrections and additions have been suggested 
by Dr. Bertha H. Wiles, and we are grateful to her for allowing them to be 
incorporated in this republication. 


ABBREVIATIONS 


PRINTS 


24 / Prints and Drawings from 


B 

Coll, mark: 

M. 

O. 

P. 
Paris 

S. 

Sanminiatelli 


Bartsch, Adam. Le Peintre-Graveur. . . . Leipzig, 1886, vol. 12 is intended 
unless otherwise noted. 

Collector’s mark. 

Meyer, Julius. Allgemeines Kiinstler-Lexikon. . . . Leipzig, 1872, vol. 1 (Andrea 
Andreani) ; vol. 3 (Domenico Beccafumi). 

Oberhuber, Konrad. Parmigianino und sein Kreis. [Exhibition catalog] Vienna, 
Graphische Sammlung Albertina, 1963. 

Passavant, J. D. Le Peintre-Graveur. Leipzig, 1964, vol. 6. 

Paris, Institut Neerlandais. Clairsobscurs, gravures sur bois imprim^es en 
couleurs de 1500 a 1800. . . . [Exhibition catalog] Paris, Rotterdam, 1965-1966. 
Servolini, Luigi. Ugo da Carpi. In Rivista d’Arte, July-September 1929, p. 
[297J-319. 

Sanminiatelli, Donato. Domenico Beccafumi. Milan, 1967. 


1. The death of Ananias. Ugo da Carpi, after Raphael Sanzio. B. II, 27 (second state); 
S., p. 300, no. 10. 

2. Christ healing the paralytic man. Attributed to Nicola Vicentino, after Perino del Vaga 
(earlier said to have been after Francesco Mazzola, called il Parmigianino). Coll, mark: 
Lankrink (Lugt 2090). B. II, 14; P., p. 220, no. 15; Paris, 151. See J. A. Gere in The Burlington 
Magazine, 102: 9ff. (January 1960), where this is identified with frescoes, now lost, on the 
lower walls of the Massimi Chapel, Sta. Trinita dei Monti, Rome. 

3. The flight into Egypt. Anonymous, after Raphael. Coll, mark: Lankrink (Lugt 2090) . 
B. II, 9. 

4. Martha and Mary Magdalene before Christ. Anonymous, after G. F. Penni (earlier at¬ 
tributed to Raphael). B. II, 12; P., p. 220, no. 12. This design was used for a lunette on the 
upper walls of the Massimi Chapel (see no. 2 above) ; mentioned in H. Voss, Die Malerei der 
Spdtrenaissance in Rom und Florenz (Berlin, 1920) I, p. 63. 

5. Diogenes with the featherless cock. Ugo, probably after Parmigianino. B. VI, 10 (with¬ 
out inscription); Paris, 86; S., p. 310, no. 21; O., 91 (Oberhuber mentions Vasari’s unreliable 
attribution of the print to Parmigianino). 

6. Venus and cupids. Ugo, after Baldassare Peruzzi (earlier attributed to Raphael) . B. VII, 
3. See Sidney Freedberg, Painting of the High Renaissance in Rome and Florence (Cambridge, 

the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


Mass., 1961) I, p. 566; II, fig. 685 on p. 502, where this is identified with one of the decora¬ 
tions in the Villa Madama, Rome. 

7. The cardinal and the doctor. Ugo, after Raphael. B. X, 6; p. 309, no. 1. 

8. Temperance. Attributed to Vicentino, republished by Andreani. B. VIII, 5; Paris, 156; 
M. vol. 1, 726, no. 17 (first state) ; O., 109. 

9. Hope. Attributed to Vicentino, after Parmigianino, published by Andreani. B. VIII, 2; 
M. vol. 1, p. 726, no. 15 (first state) ; O., 106. 

10. Sibyl reading a book. Ugo, after Raphael. B. V, 6; S., p. 298, no. 5. 

11. Raphael and his beloved. Ugo, after Raphael. B. IX, 3. 

12. Man seated, seen from behind. Antonio da Trento, after Parmigianino. B. X, 13. 
Werner Schade in Italienische Farbenholzschitte des 16 bis 18 Jahrhunderts (Weimar, Schloss- 
museum, 1957) , p. 16, nos. 31 and 32, identifies the theme of this print as Narcissus gazing at 
his reflection while Echo is turned to stone. A. E. Popham has rejected this 

13. The Virgin, Child and St. John. Anonymous, after Parmigianino. B. Ill, 12; Paris, 43. 

14. The adoration of the Magi. Attributed to Vicentino, after Parmigianino. B. II, 2 
(first state). 

15. The Virgin, St. Sebastian and a holy bishop. Ugo, after Parmigianino (not mentioned 
by Servolini). B. Ill, 26 (first state) ; O., 90. 

16. The entombment. Andreani, after Raffaelino de Reggio. LC impression from single 
block and carries no inscription; although derived from the same source as no. 58 in the 
album, this is a different print and may not have been intended as a chiaroscuro key-block. 

17. Saints Peter and John curing the sick. Anonymous, after Raphael. B. IV, 27. 

18. The marriage of St. Catherine. Anonymous, after Correggio. B. Ill, 19. This is not 
precisely a chiaroscuro print. The color suggests that it may come from the workshop of the 
Remondini in Bassano and may not be the print cited by Bartsch. 

19. The resurrection. Ugo, after Raphael. B. II, 26; Paris, 75; S., p. 304, no. 18. 

20. St. Peter preaching the gospel. Ugo, after Polidoro da Caravaggio. B. IV, 25; Paris, 80; 
S., p. 309, no. 4; O., 0.80. 

21. Apollo and Marsyas. Probably Ugo, after Parmigianino. B. VII, 24 (second subject, first 
state); Paris 94; S., p. 313, no. 25; O., 95. This print and no. 22 were evidently prints from the 
same block, and proofs exist with both subjects on the same sheet. Although always given this 
title, the print is actually the contest of Apollo and Pan, according to Emmanuel Winternitz 
(in conversation with Morgan Library curator). 

22. Pan. Probably Ugo, after Parmigianino. B. VII, 24 (first subject, first state). 

23. Charity. Perhaps Vicentino, after Parmigianino, republished by Andreani. B. VIII, 3; 
Paris, 152; M. vol. 1, p. 726, no. 14 (first state); O., 107. 

24. Fortitude. Vicentino or Antonio da Trento, after Parmigianino. B. VIII, 7 (probably 
Antonio da Trento) ; O., 108 (Vicentino?). Ascribed to Ugo by Pittaluga. 

25. The Virgin in an oval. Anonymous, after Parmigianino. B. Ill, 4; Paris, 42. 

26. The rest on the flight into Egypt. Anonymous, after Antonio Campi da Cremona (or 
his circle). B. II, 10; O., 188. 

27. The sacrifice of Abraham. Anonymous, after Parmigianino. B. I, 3; Paris, 39. 

28. Saints Peter and John. Probably Ugo, after Parmigianino, republished by Andreani. 
B. IV, 26; M. vol. 1, p. 725, no. 8 (first state); S., p. 309, no. 5. 


The "Pembroke” Album of Chiaroscuros / 25 


29. Diana hunting the stag. Antonio da Trento or Vicentino, after Parmigianino. B. VII, 
10; O., 131. 

30. The sacrifice. Anonymous, after Parmigianino. B. X, 21. The actual subject is Mutius 
Scaevola’s ordeal by fire. Meyer (vol. 3, p. 158, no. 28) gives this print to Antonio da Trento. 

31. Faith. Attributed variously to Ugo and Vicentino, after Parmigianino, republished by 
Andreani. B. VIII, 1; M. vol. 1, p. 726, no. 13 (first state) ; O., 105. 

32. Prudence. Attributed variously to Ugo and Vicentino, after Parmigianino, republished 
by Andreani. B. VII, 6; Paris, 152; M. vol. 1, p. 726, no. 18 (first state) ; O., 110. 

33. Fortitude. Attributed variously to Ugo and Vicentino, after Parmigianino, republished 
by Andreani. B. VIII, 4; Paris, 152; M. vol. 1, p. 726, no. 16 (first state). 

34. The philosopher. Antonio da Trento, after Parmigianino. B. X, 1; O., 139. 

35. The philosopher Diogenes and the allegory of astronomy. Probably Antonio da Trento, 
after Parmigianino. B. VIII, 16; O., 138. 

36. The marriage of St. Catherine. Not in Bartsch. 

37. The Holy Family with St. Margaret and a bishop. Possibly Antonio da Trento, after 
Parmigianino, republished by Andreani. B. Ill, 24 (first state) ; Paris, 136; M. vol. 1, p. 725, 
no. 9, (first state) ; O., 140. 

38. St. John. Probably Antonio da Trento, after Parmigianino. B. IV, 4; O., 123. 

39. Pallas. Probably Antonio da Trento, after Parmigianino. B. VII, 23; O., 132. 

40. An apostle (Paul?). Domenico Beccafumi. B. IV, 22; P., p. 151, no. 8; M. vol. 3, p. 
258, no. 16; Sanminiatelli, 12. 

41. St. Philip (or Andrew?) . Beccafumi. B. IV, 13; P., p. 151, no. 6; M. vol. 3, p. 258, no. 13 
(St. Andrew) ; Sanminiatelli, 9. 

42. An apostle. Beccafumi. B. IV, 15; P., p. 151, no. 7; M. vol. 3, 258, no. 15; San¬ 
miniatelli, 11. 

43. St. Peter. Beccafumi. B. IV, 14; P., p. 150, no. 5; M. vol. 3, p. 258, no. 12; San¬ 
miniatelli, 10. 

44. St. Philip. Beccafumi. B. IV, 23; M. vol. 3, p. 258, no. 14; Sanminiatelli, 6. 

45. A philosopher. Beccafumi,, B. X, 16; M. vol. 3, p. 258, no. 19; Sanminiatelli, 7. 

46. Two nude men: one standing, one reclining. Engraving. Beccafumi. Not in Bartsch. P., 
p. 149-150, no. 4; M. vol. 3, p. 257, no. 4; Sanminiatelli, 2. 

47. Same as above. Engraving and 1 chiaroscuro woodblock. 

48. Four doctors of the church(?). Attributed to Baccafumi. B. IV, 35; Paris, 45; M. vol. 
3, p. 258, no. 21; Sanminiatelli, 3. 

49. Three male figures. Engraving and chiaroscuro woodblock. Beccafumi. Not in Bartsch. 
M. vol. 3, p. 257, no. 5; Sanminiatelli, 4. Only one other copy of this print in this state is 
known; the drawing and an impression of the engraved key-plate are in the Cleveland Museum 
of Art. Sometimes called “River Gods,” the design appears related to the pavements in the 
Cathedral of Siena. 

50. The Virgin, Child, and saints. Andreani, after Ligozzi. B. Ill, 27, (first state) ; M. vol. 
1, p. 720, no. 24 (first state). 

51. Christ at the table of Simon the Pharisee. Ugo, after G. F. Penni (earlier attributed to 
Raphael), monogram of Andreani. B. II, 17; Paris, 73; M. voil. 1, p. 725, no. 6 (second state); 
S., p. 304, no. 16. See note for no. 4 in the album. 


26 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


52. Christ curing the lepers. Vicentino, after Parmigianino, monogram of Andreani. B. II, 
15; M. vol. 1, p. 725, no. 5 (second state) ; O., 101. 

53. Eve after the fall. Andreani, after Beccafumi. B. I, 1; P., p. 220, no. 1; Paris, 46; M. 
vol. 1, p. 716, no. 1. 

54. The Virgin and Child surrounded by saints and kneeling donor. Alessandro Gandini, 
after Parmigianino (sometimes attributed to Girolamo da Carpi rather than Parmigianino), 
monogram of Andreani. B. Ill, 25; Paris, 122; M. vol. 1, p. 725, no. 10 (second state); O., 142. 

55. The miraculous draught of fishes. Ugo, after Raphael, monogram of Andreani. B. II, 
13 (second state); Paris, 71; M. vol. 1, p. 725, no. 7. 

56. Surprise. Probably Ugo (possibly Vicentino), after Parmigianino, monogram of An¬ 
dreani. B. X, 10 (third state) ; P., p. 222, no. 10; Paris, 98; S., p. 304, no. 20; O., 94. The subject 
of the print is possibly Achaemenides surrendering to the Trojans on Aeneas’ ship. See Bertha 
H. Wiles in Museum Studies 1 (Chicago, Art Institute of Chicago, 1966), p. 96 ff. 

57. The adoration of the Magi. Ugo or Vicentino, after Parmigianino, monogram of 
Andreani. B. II, 2; M. vol. 1, p. 724, no. 3 (second state) ; O., 98. 

58. The entombment. Andreani, after Raffaelino de Reggio. B. II, 24; Paris, 49; M. vol. 1, 
p. 718, no. 16. (See no. 16 in the album.) 

59. Circe. Ugo after Parmigianino, republished by Andreani. B. VIII, 6; M. vol. 1, p. 726, 
no. 24. 

60. Circe. Ugo, after Parmigianino, monogram of Andreani. B. VII, 8; M. vol. 1, p. 726, 
no. 25. 

61. Nymphs bathing. Ugo, after Parmigianino, monogram of Andreani. B. VII, 22; Paris, 
89; M. vol. 1, p. 726, no. 22 (second state); S., p. 304, no. 19; O., 93. 

62. Mutius Scaevola. Andreani, after Balthasar Peruzzi. B. VI, 7; Paris, 58; M. vol. 1, p. 
727, no. 27. 

63. St. Cecilia, Antonio da Trento, after Parmigianino, monogram of Andreani. B. IV, 37; 
M. vol. 1, p. 725, no. 12 (second state); O., 120. 

64. Temperance. Possibly Vicentino, after Parmigianino, monogram of Andreani. B. VIII, 
5; M. vol. 1, p. 726, no. 12 (second state); O., 109. 

65. Ritual in honor of Psyche. Probably by Nicola Vicentino, after Francesco Salviati, 
monogram of Andreani. B. VII, 26 (second state); P., p. 222, no. 26; Paris, 141; M. vol. 1, 
p. 726, no. 21 (second state). This is related to a famous painting (now lost) on the ceiling 
of the Palazzo Grimani, Venice. See Iris H. Cheney in Art Bulletin, 45: 341 (1963). 

66. Jason returning with the golden fleece. Possibly Ugo, after Parmigianino, monogram 
of Andreani. B. VII, 19; Paris, 88; M. vol. 1, p. 726, no. 26. 

67. Virtue. Andreani, after Jacopo Ligozzi. B. VIII, 9; M. vol. 1, p. 720, no. 25 (LC without 
inscription in lower right corner). 

68. Stage design for L’Ortensio, 1589. Girolamo Bolsi, after Bartolomeo Neroni. B. X, 29; 
M. vol. 1, p. 724, no. 38. This impression lacks the long inscription, which connects the print 
with Andreani, present in the copies in the British Museum and in the Raccolta Bertarelll, 
Milan. 

69. The Tiburtine Sibyl and the Emperor Augustus. Antonio da Trento, after Parmigianino. 
B. V, 7; Paris, 133; O., 111. 

70. Ceiling with three angels. Ugo, after Giulio Romano. B. X, 25; S., p. 309, no. 2. 


The “Pembroke” Album of Chiaroscuros / 27 


71. The Blessed Virgin. Anonymous (possibly by Andreani), after Francesco Vanni. B. Ill, 
11; M. vol. 1, p. 718, no. 9. 

72. Herodiade. Bartolomeo Coriolano, after Guido Reni. B. II, 29 (third state). 

73. Christ carrying the cross. Andreani, after Alessandro Casolani. B. II, 21; Paris 48; M. 
p. 718, no. 12. 

74. The Virgin, Child, and a bishop. Andreani, after Alessandro Casolani. B. Ill, 22; 
Paris, SI; M. vol. 1, p. 718, no. 12. 

75. St. Jerome. Bartolomeo Coriolano, after Guido Reni. B. IV, 33. 

76. Study of a giant. Bartolomeo Coriolano, after Guido Reni, B. VII, 13. 

77. Sibyl holding a tablet. Bartolomeo Coriolano, after Guido Reni. B. V, 5; Paris, 112. 

78. Sibyl. Bartolomeo Coriolano, after Guido Reni. B. V, 3; Paris, 110. 

79. Sibyl. Bartolomeo Coriolano, after Guido Reni. B. V, 4; Paris, 111. 

80. Sibyl. Bartolomeo Coriolano, after Guido Reni. B. V, 2; Paris, 109. 

81. The Virgin and Child. Bartolomeo Coriolano, after Guido Reni. B. Ill, 5 (third state). 

82. The poet Aretino. Anonymous, after Titian. B. X, 5. See Fabio Mauroner, Le incisioni 
di Tiziano (Padua, 1943) , p. 44, no. 10, pi. 25; engraved as a book frontispiece in Venice in 
1537, the woodcut is attributed by Mauroner to Francesco Marcolini. It appeared in later books 
and also as a chiaroscuro. 

83. The Virgin, Child, and St. John the Baptist. Bartolomeo Coriolano, Guido Reni. B. Ill, 
20 (third state). 

84. The Virgin and Child. Bartolomeo Coriolano, after Guido Reni. Reverse of previous 
print. 

85. S. Carlo Borromeo. Giovanni Battista Coriolano. Single block. B. vol. 19, p. 67, no. 2, 
with letters not described in Bartsch. 

86. The Virgin and Child. Bartolomeo Coriolano, after Guido Reni. Same as no 84, with 
minor changes including inscriptions. 

87. Head of the Virgin. Bartolomeo Coriolano, after Guido Reni. B. Ill, 3. 

88. The Virgin and Child. Bartolomeo Coriolano, after Guido Reni. 

89. Landscape ( with hermit or saint in prayer). Bartolomeo Coriolano. (Reverse adapta¬ 
tion of print by Hendrik Goltzius; Paris, 243 and 245; Hollstein, 381.) 

90. The Infant Christ prefiguring the Passion. B. X, 23, anonymous, after Guido Reni 
(unsigned in Bartsch) . This is apparently an unpublished state with signatures at left and 
right. Bartsch describes the cross on which the infant lies as a “cushion.” Dr. B. H. Wiles 
suggests that the letters at lower left might be “BFC” intertwined, for “Bartolomeo Coriolano 
fecit,” but remains uncertain about the meaning of the letters at the right. 

91. Head of cupid. Bartolomeo Coriolano, after Guido Reni. B. VII, 2. 


28 I Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


Old Master Prints: Elias Holl the Younger 


by Edgar Breitenbach 


So many of the artist prints acquired by the Library are of recent origin that it 
is sometimes forgotten how rich are the collections of old master prints. Indeed, 
the Library of Congress began its serious acquisition of prints with the excel¬ 
lent Rembrandts, Diners, and other works from the fifteenth through the eigh¬ 
teenth century given by Mrs. Gardiner Greene Hubbard. 

This year one of our major print acquisitions was a group of twelve etch¬ 
ings of the greatest rarity done in 1638 by Elias Holl the Younger (1611-57), 
which were found in the stock of an important New York dealer. 

Today photography has taken over the task of describing the world and its 
activities, leaving to the other art forms a more imaginative, aesthetic role; but 
before photography came into general use in the 1840s, the print had both a 
documentary and an aesthetic function. These little etchings by Holl, showing 
as they do the use of tools, the appearance of costumes, plants, and animals and 
the everyday activities of people, nicely exemplify this dual function. 

Holl’s prints show the twelve months of the year, each plate being devoted 
to a single month and showing a peasant performing some task appropriate to 
that month. Only in the month of May is the activity frivolous; here the lute 
player seems to embody the relaxation and courtliness of spring in full bloom. 
Otherwise, the activities are all connected with farming or husbandry. 

On all twelve prints the horizon is low, and the empty space above is filled 
with an engraved ornament. Some ornaments bear a vague resemblance to 
plants, fruits, or flowers, while others are abstract decorative motifs that defy 


29 



Following 5 pages: Designs for the last 
twelve months of the year by Elias Holl the 
Younger. 


identification. The stiff, controlled engraving technique (similar to that used 
in making niello plates, in which metal is incised with a design and the incisions 
filled with a rich black compound) contrasts strikingly with the free drawing 
of the etched scenes in the lower part of the prints. 

That this group of prints is exceedingly rare is demonstrated by the fact 
that Hoiks biographer, Albert Hammerle, was able to see only two sets of the 
prints when he wrote his article on Holl in 1930. 1 One set was found in the 
Germanisches National Museum in Niirnberg, the other in the Museum fur 
Kunst und Industrie in Vienna. Hammerle mentioned the existence of a third 
set of prints, which had been described to him but which he had never seen. 


30 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 
















This set differed from the others in one respect only: the name of the publisher, 
Paulus Fiirst, did not appear in its usual place under the word “Ianuarious” on 
the first print, and therefore Hammerle assumed these prints to be proofs taken 
before the publisher’s name was engraved. The description of this “proof” set 
perfectly fits the set of prints just acquired by the Library of Congress, and these 
prints bear the stamp of the famous collection of the Princes of Waldburg-Wol- 
fegg (Lugt 2542), which was assembled in the seventeenth century and from 
which prints were sold in 1901. Possibly, the prints we have just acquired were 
released in the 1901 sale, but the more recent owners of the prints are not 
recorded. 2 


Old Master Prints: Elias Holl the Younger / 31 


































From the title page, which is not included in our proofs but is present in 
the complete copies in Niirnberg and Vienna, we can learn the date of the 
prints (1638) and the purpose of publication: to provide models for “gold¬ 
smiths, painters and other devotees of the arts.” 3 Our series, therefore, belongs to 
the vast body of ornament prints, a type of publication in which Paulus Fiirst 
specialized. Goldsmiths and other craftsmen such as those who decorated fire¬ 
arms with silver inlay and cabinetmakers were invited to use the floral orna¬ 
ments, while painters and printmakers might derive inspiration from the repre¬ 
sentation of the months. 

The title page reveals another interesting fact. Crowning the German text 


32 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 






























and within the floral cartouche which surrounds it are two large capital letters 
CR. These are the initials of Christian Richter of Altenburg, whose identical 
series, in reverse, was published by Peter Isselburgk seven years earlier, in 1631. 
Such piracy was common in the baroque age, but one wonders whether Elias 
Holl and his publisher realized the significance of the initials CR, which could 
so easily have been replaced by Holl’s own. 

On both Richter’s and Holl’s title pages the cartouche is surmounted by a 
device in French. Written in cursive letters, it reads: “Tout avec le temps.” 
This leaves open the possibility that even Richter might not be the inventor, 
but might in turn have copied from a French or Flemish source. 


Old Master Prints: Elias Holl the Younger / 33 















xSfcPTEMBER 




October ., 



Elias Holl the Younger is only a minor artist. Hammerle in 1930 was un¬ 
able to cite a single painting by Holl. All Hammerle knew of his work, apart 
from his Twelve Months, was a drawing, a not too significant landscape reminis¬ 
cent of Dutch models. Yet Holl deserves some attention by virtue of the fact 
that he was the son of a famous father. Elias Holl the Elder was one of the 
outstanding German architects during the first half of the seventeenth century. 
Official architect for the municipal government of Augsburg, he designed many 
public buildings in the style of the Late Renaissance which are landmarks of 
the city to this day. 

Life in Augsburg was precarious during the period of religious strife. AI- 


34 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 



















iVoV'E.WBER . ' 



though the city government was in Protestant hands, there was also a powerful 
Catholic bishop within the walls who held one of the oldest sees in Germany. 
When the Catholic League was temporarily successful in 1630, the older Elias 
Holl suffered many indignities, the greatest of which was his removal from 
office. Five years later the situation was even more critical. With the death of 
Gustaf Adolf at the battle of Liitzen (1632) the Protestants had lost their leader. 
In April of 1635 the Swedish defenders of beleaguered Augsburg were ready 
to withdraw and to turn the city over to the emperor. The elder Holl may have 
thought of emigration but decided against it because of his age and of his 
heavy family responsibilities. Fearing for the safety of his three grown sons, who 


Old Master Prints: Elias Holl the Younger / 35 


















might have been seized as hostages or pressed into military service for the em¬ 
peror, however, he arranged for their escape. In the year 1635 he entered the 
following passage in the family record, which is our main source of information 
concerning his son Elias: 

Anno 1635, as the city [Augsburg] surrendered and went back to the 
Emperor, my three sons, Elias the painter, Jeronimus the goldsmith and 
Hans, the journeyman-cabinetmaker, left on Wednesday, 28th of May, to¬ 
gether with the Swedish Commander of the Old Blue Finnish Regiment, 
Hans Jorg aus dem Winckhel. All three sons were well provided with equip¬ 
ment and food . . . the commander has promised me that he will provide 
sleeping quarters for my three sons in the same lodgings as the Lieutenant 
Captain, until they have reached Erfurt safely. After which they can seek 
to carry on their trades wherever they please. To this end they would be 
given a pass and safe-conduct. Although they suffered great hardship owing 
to the inclemency of the weather, they reached Leipzig in safety, but all 
suffered sore feet. 

Little is known of Hoiks life during the years he spent as a refugee from 
his native city. Hammerle assumes that he lived for some time in Leipzig, per¬ 
haps working for Hans Jacob Gabler, another refugee from Augsburg. In 1638, 
and probably for several years, he was in the employ of the publisher Paulus 
Fiirst in Niirnberg. Apart from ornament prints, the first published numerous 
illustrated pamphlets on political and cultural topics. None of the illustrations 
bears the signature of an artist, but some may well be the work of Elias Holl. 
In 1646 the elder Holl died, leaving two houses to his family. This inheritance, 
together with a new climate of religious tolerance after the peace treaty of 
Munster in 1648, may have persuaded Holl to return to his home town around 
1650. He married in the following year and died in 1657, in the forty-sixth year 
of his life. 


36 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


NOTES 


1. Zeitschrift fur das Schwabische Museum, 1930, p. 11-17. 

2. Since these lines were written, two more sets became known to us, one lacking the title 
page, but with the publisher’s line on the representation for January, in the print collection 
of the British Museum in London; the other is in the Graphische Sammlung in Munich. This 
copy, acquired in 1959 at a Karl & Faber auction, is identical with ours in that it lacks the 
title page and the publisher’s name. 

3. XII Monatsbiichlein Vor die Goltschmidt, Mahler, vnd dergleichen Liebhaber. Niirnberg, 
Paulus Fiirst excudit 1638. 


Old Master Prints: Elias Holl the Younger / 37 



38 


Joueur de Marionnettes. Plate 63 from Carle Vernet’s Cris de Paris (ca. 1820-22) 







Street Cries in Pictures 


by Karen F. Beall 


From Tutchland I come with my light wares all laden, 
To happy Columbia in summer’s gay bloom, 

Then listen fair lady and pretty young maiden, 

Oh buy of the wand’ring Bavarian a broom. 

Buy a broom, buy a broom. 

Oh buy fo’ the wand’ring Bavarian a broom. 

To brush away insects that sometimes annoy you, 
You’ll find it quite handy to use night and day. 

And what better exercise pray can employ you, 

Than to sweep all vexatious intruders away. 

Buy a broom, buy a broom, 

And sweep all vexatious intruders away. 


This charming song lithographed and published in 1828 or 1829 to the 
tune of the familiar Ach du lieber Augustin stands as evidence of the appeal 
the street crier had for the people. Although later in the century the ambulatory 
tradesmen largely disappear, the tradition is one of many centuries’ duration. 

The street cry has never really been studied as a pictorial art from, although 
histories of the cries of Paris and London were written in the last century. The 
single figures of the criers looming large in simplified settings are very much 


like the popular costume prints dating from the fifteenth and sixteenth cen¬ 
turies. 

The street cry has never really been studied as a pictorial art form, although 
who earns his living by walking the streets selling his wares or providing a 
service necessary to the community. Pictorial representations of these people en¬ 
joyed a universal popularity. In this brief essay only a glimpse into the nature 
of these pictures in Europe and the United States will be attempted, although 
Latin American and Far Eastern examples are also known. At the end is a list 
of pertinent material in the Library. 

Street names on a map of central Paris in the year 1292 revealed at once the 
influence and localization of the trades in city life. Streets named for the iron¬ 
monger, the saddler, and the butcher tell of the importance of the markets. 1 
The same could be said for other medieval cities, for as soon as people began to 
live together in large numbers each man began advertising his goods or the 
service he rendered. With the growth of the cities and the increasing influence 
of the guilds toward the end of the fifteenth century a greater interest in secular 
subjects and their representation developed. 

Sometime before illustrations were feasible, street cries themselves made 
their appearance in literature. A little poem Crieries de Paris by Guillaume de la 
Villeneuve appeared at the end of the thirteenth century, and Le livre des 
mestiers by Etienne Boileau contains examples from the same period. 2 In Eng¬ 
land in the following century William Langland introduced the cry of the 
“cokes and here knaves” in his prologue to Piers Plowman : 3 


Hote pyes, hotel 
Goode gees and grys, ga we dyne, ga we! 


This cry was heard with slight variation for four centuries. 

Hawkers and vendors also appear in another poem of about the same 
period, formerly attributed to John Lydgate. Entitled London Lickpenny, it 
records the journey of a poor Kentishman through the streets of London. 4 


In to london I gan me hy 

Of al the lond it bearethe the prise 

Hot pescods, one gan cry 


40 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 



I > 





Lddiog*t**ip]ied and piild islted I>y A. FJeetwcod, 47, JVIur* •*> at 




' ■ r - ■ --T" ■ .. 

. . • , •-_•••;• - .. - lA-', ...• . . 



The broom girl from the sheet music Buy a Broom, in the Prints and Photographs Division. 


Street Cries in Pictures / 41 










































































































































































Strabery rype, and chery in the ryse 
One bad me come nere and by some spice 
Pepar and saffron they gan me bede 
Clove, grayns, and flowre of rise 
For lacke of money I might not spede 

Ballads often included the cries and occasionally the broadsheets carried 
representations of the criers. The Famous Rat-Catcher of about 1615 is a sur¬ 
viving example in the Pepysian Library, Cambridge. At one time the ballad 
singers were the carriers of news, but after the newspaper came into existence 
about 1600 the ballad took on a new and more romantic flavor. The importance 
of music in the street noises, however, cannot be overemphasized. In London, it 
has been said that the vendors were recognized by the sounds rather than the 
words uttered, and this may well have been true elsewhere. Yet the words pro¬ 
vide a curious glance into language and changing customs. The cry of the seller 
of rushes, which the poor bought to strew on the floor in lieu of carpets, sug¬ 
gests the origin of the phrase “not worth a rush,” used to describe something 
without value. 5 

During the sixteenth century the theater—the commedia delFarte, and some¬ 
what later the antimasques—offered opportunities for the appearance of the 
street tradesmen. Winifred Smith in her thesis tells us that “The Italian street 
scene seems to have been a norm for improvisd comedies from the latter part 
of the sixteenth to at least the middle of the seventeenth century.” 6 It is not 
surprising therefore to find mongers in some of the designs for the plays. The so- 
called Recueil de Fossard, from the sixteenth century, contains a print of a milk¬ 
maid; Inigo Jones made drawings, including the well-known sketch of a seller 
of mouse traps, in connection with a performance in 1683 of Sir William Da- 
venant’s Britannia Triumphans. 

The appearance of criers in theatrical productions remained popular for 
centuries—le Theatre des Varietes in Paris performed Les Cris de Paris in 1822; 
more than a century later George Gershwin included street sellers in his opera 
Porgy and Bess. 

The earliest pictorial representations occurred almost simultaneously in 
Italy and France. Giovanni Antonio da Brescia engraved a milkman, about 1475, 
which bears the inscription “late done late frescha” (milk, ladies, fresh milk). 
There is an anonymous set of Paris cries dating from the late fifteenth or early 
sixteenth century in the Biblioth£que de l’Arsenal, Paris. These examples con- 


42 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


Efjc famous; JxatUetcfjer, toitfj fjis; frauds; into Jfrancf, 
anfc of fns; return? to Honbon. 

'To the tune of the iouiall Tinker . 



i ' | ''Here was a rare Rat-catcher, 

-l Did about the Country wander, 
The soundest blade of all his trade, 

Or I should him deepely slaunder: 
For still would he cry , a Ratt tat tat , 
tar a rat , euer: 

To catch a Mouse , or to carouse , 
such a Ratter 1 saw neuer. 



> LATE DONE LATE F RE5CHA. 


A page from a volume edited by Hyder E. Rollins, A 
Pepysian Garland; Black-Letter Broadside Ballads of the 
Years 1595-1639, Chiefly from the Collection of Samuel 
Pepys, published by Cambridge University Press in 1922. 

Above: The milkman, engraved about 1475 by Giovanni 
Antonio da Brescia. Reproduced from Arthur M. Hind’s 
Early Italian Engraving; a Critical Catalogue, volume 6, 
published for the National Gallery of Art, Washington, by 
Bernard Quaritch Ltd., London, 1948. 


Street Cries in Pictures / 43 




























stitute the beginning of an unbroken tradition of pictorial cries in the two coun¬ 
tries lasting well into the nineteenth century. Even as late as 1954 a little book, 
Paris des Rues, was published in France. During the seventeenth the London 
Cries were illustrated for the first time. 

In the eighteenth century when people were travelling more and thereby 
developing a curiosity about the costumes and customs of other countries, prints 
of the cries enjoyed their greatest popularity. This is attested to by the great 
number of sets and subsequent editions of many of them. Publishers, realizing 
their market, translated the verses or captions into other languages. 

The subject was confined to France, Italy, and England until the middle of 
the eighteenth century when series began cropping up elsewhere. First came 
Switzerland, Austria, Russia, Germany, and the United States, followed after 
the turn of the century by Denmark, Belgium, Holland, Spain, and Portugal. 

Aside from England, France, and Italy, the earliest known literary references 
are to be found in Germany where the street vendors, particularly in Hamburg, 
were well known. In 1725 Johann Philipp Praetorius introduced a chorus of 
cries at the beginning and end of his musicals Der Hamburger Jahrmarkt and 
Die Hamburger Schlachtzeit— but the prints came later. 7 One of the largest sets 
known is from Hamburg consisting of 120 plates by Christoffer Suhr first pub¬ 
lished in 1808. This set is prefaced by an essay by the Lutheran clergyman 
K. J. H. Hiibbe, on the literary and musical background of the city’s cries. This 
antiquarian viewpoint is apparently a unique one of the time. 

New sets appeared well into the nineteenth century until the industrial 
revolution so changed society that the colorful hawker was no longer a neces¬ 
sary member of society. 

The earliest series owned by the Library of Congress may well be the most 
famous one ever produced. It is Annibale Carracci’s Diverse Figure, later called 
Le Arti di Bologna. Before leaving his native Bologna for Rome in 1595, Car¬ 
racci made seventy-five drawings of the street trades, which were bound into a 
book. The story of these cries is related by Giovanni Atanasio Mosini in his 
preface to the 1646 edition of Simon Guillain’s engravings of them. Before they 
left the Carracci workshop they were used as samples by the students for their 
exercises in draftsmanship. The book passed into the hands of an unknown 
person, from whom it went to the Cardinal Lodovico Ludovisi and then to 
Lelio Guidiccioni. From Guidiccioni it went to Leonardo Agostino, from whom 
Mosini got it. It was Mosini’s friends who urged him to have the drawings 
etched. The young French artist Simon Guillain was commissioned to do the 


44 I Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


m SfM JOttf 



Left: The seller of fagots, from a Cris de Paris of the late fifteenth or 
early sixteenth century, reproduced from Victor Fournel’s Cris de Paris 
published in 1887■ 



The book seller, from Annibale Carracci’s Diverse Figure, 
published in Rome in 1646. 


Street Cries in Pictures / 45 


















































































































































































Above: The quack doctor, as depicted by Guiseppe Maria Mitelli and 
engraved by Francesco Curti. 

Right: The lantern man, from the 1785 edition of Gaetano Zorn- 
pini’s Le Arti che vanno per via nella Citta de Venezia. 

46 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 



1 ’tend the playhoafcs at nights 
I am the man that lanterns lights ; 

At gaming-houfes too: 

Go any where about the town. 
Contented travel up. and down, 

1/1 but get my due. 









































































































plates with the advice of the architect-sculptor Alessandro Algardi, who had at 
one time studied with Lodovico Carracci, probably a cousin of Annibale, al¬ 
though authorities differ on the relationship between the Carracci. Five addi¬ 
tional drawings by Annibale, belonging to a friend of Mosini, were added to the 
seventy-five in his book although they do not depict vendors. 8 Each sheet con¬ 
tains one figure, or occasionally two, a casually clad heroic type generally in 
motion in an abbreviated setting of Italian character, although not clearly 
Bolognese. 

The Prints and Photographs Division has two editions of the Guillain 
prints, one with title page, table of contents, and portrait of Annibale by Algardi 
in addition to the eighty illustrations. The title page fits the description of the 
1646 edition. Unfortunately the introduction by Mosini is lacking and on many 
of the prints one can see that the numbering has been altered. The clearer num¬ 
bers correspond to those in the contents. The other volume was published in 
1740. Its title has been changed to Le Arti di Bologna, and captions as well as 
new, bolder numbers have been added on each print but the same plates have 
been used. In this album there is a four-page preface on the life of Annibale. 

The Guillain prints were widely known and they inspired, among others, 
Giuseppe Maria Mitelli (1634-1718), who created his own set of forty, which 
were published in 1660. Two editions exist, one engraved by Mitelli, the other 
by Francesco Curti. The latter is the volume owned by the Library (missing the 
title page) and the plates are in many cases reversed from Mitelli’s own set. 
This reversal is a common occurrence in the copying of prints as the second 
engraver often forgets that his image will be reversed in printing and that he 
must therefore reverse the picture as he etches it. 

Mitelli romantically dedicated his cries to the statue of Neptune in the 
main square of Bologna before whom all the people must pass. Neptune gives 
good water to them all, Mitelli says; he hears everything and is therefore the 
wisest judge of this many-faceted life. 9 The images have much of the spirit of 
Carracci and for the most part adopt his motifs but they are nonetheless Mitelli’s 
own, no figure being close enough to his model’s to be called a copy. A newly 
introduced character—often of central importance in the commedia dell’arte— 
is the quack doctor, a fat, comic figure. 

A third important Italian series in the Library’s collections is an eighteenth- 
century Venetian set by Gaetano Zompini. It is not only one of the most im¬ 
portant works of the artist but is important in the context of eighteenth-century 
book illustration. The drawings for Le Arti che vanno per via nella Citta di 


Street Cries in Pictures / 47 


Venezia were made about mid-century. The two editions in the Library were 
published in Venice in 1785 and in London in 1803. A sheet of English verses 
is inserted in the front of the 1803 album; in the earlier volume they are cut 
and pasted underneath the Italian ones. Obviously the publisher was aiming at 
the English market, which was actively interested in things Italian at this time. 
This set also drew inspiration from the Carracci characters although now several 
figures often appear together and the backgrounds are more fully developed. 
The theater was an important part of Venetian life at the time and Zompini 
gives us several scenes relating to it including the man handing out keys to the 
loges and the lantern man offering to show a couple home after a performance 
lest one should fall in the darkness, perhaps into a canal. 

After more than two centuries of having the words recorded in literature, 
visual cries also achieved popularity in England during the seventeenth century. 
Much of the broadsheet material is now lost but a few pieces, including a rare 
set of half-length figures, remain from the first half of the century in British 
collections. These designs also appear on a series of silver counters for use in a 
game. 10 

The drawings for two interesting English albums in the Library dating 
from the 1680s are the work of the Dutch-born artist Marcellus Laroon (also 
called Lauron and Mauron). Laroon left Holland when very young and was 
living in London by 1674. Published editions of one of the albums date from 
1687, but the largest and the first in which the prints are numbered and in¬ 
scribed is the edition of 1711, which contains seventy-four prints. The captions, 
except for two in English and two in Latin, are in English, French, and Italian. 
Pierce Tempest, the publisher, was clearly aware of the already existing market 
in France and Italy. The plates were probably engraved by several hands. John 
Savage is responsible for at least two of them and very likely Tempest himself 
engraved some of the others. No direct connection can be made between these 
and any other London Cries but there is an affinity between the Laroon drawings 
and a French set by Jean-Baptiste Bonnart dating one or two years earlier. In 
both sets there is a strong sense of movement as in the seventeenth-century 
Italian ones. With the characters exaggerated, the prints border on satire (as 
does the quack doctor in the Italian set) and seem almost to anticipate the 
work of William Hogarth. In fact a drawing by Laroon reproduced in Robert 
Raines’s recent monograph on the artist is startlingly like the famous Hogarth 
Shrimp Girl. The prints in this album alternate between men and women. 
Apparently there was an awareness of a greater market for pairs of etchings 


48 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 



Two versions of a print from a drawing by Marcellus Laroon of a girl selling Dutch biscuits, both of them from 
albums entitled The Cries of the City of London Drawne After the Life. The upper one is from a 1711 edition. 
The upper right one was made from the reworked place reflecting changes in style. It is part of an album 
not assembled until the 19th century. 


Street Cries in Pictures / 49 


















































than for the entire set of seventy-four. 

The second Laroon album contains the same title page and many of the 
same prints but there are curious differences. As all of the prints are cut and 
mounted on sheets many of which are watermarked 1813 one may assume that 
the prints came from more than one source. With one exception the same plates 
appear to have been used but they have obviously been strengthened and the 
printing must have been some years later as the hats, collars, and shoes of a 
number of the figures have been changed to accord with a later fashion. The 
long blunt-toed shoes are replaced by slender pointed-toed ones and the floppy 
ties have disappeared. Small fitted caps replace broad-brimmed ones. It is known 
that Louis Philippe Boitard reworked some of Laroon’s plates; perhaps these are 
his. One plate, the milkmaid, was copied in reverse by the Dutchman Jacob Gole 
and carries the caption in Dutch as well as in the original three languages. 11 

During the years 1973 97 the Cries of London after Francis Wreatley were 
printed—a set of thirteen prints ( fourteen if one counts two versions of one of 
the plates) engraved by four artists. The delicate charm of these pictures has 
given them a lasting popularity. 

The Library has British political cartoons of the period such as James Gill- 
ray’s Sandwich Carrots of 1796, which satirizes the unpopular Lord Sandwich, a 
politician whose administration was as disastrous as his personal life was im¬ 
moral. The composition is reminiscent of Wheatley’s Hot Spice Gingerbread dat¬ 
ing half a year earlier. Another major cartoonist, Thomas Rowlandson, is re¬ 
sponsible for numerous representations of street hawkers, some of which are in 
the Library’s collections. 

A cartoon drawn by Isaac Cruikshank in 1799, entitled The Enraged Poli¬ 
tician, or the Sunday Reformer, or a Noble Bellman Crying Stinking Fish, de¬ 
picts numerous shouting vendors after the law was changed to permit highly 
perishable mackerel to be sold on Sundays. Although this cartoon appeared 
eighty-eight years afterward, it reflects the clamor and congestion described by 
Ralph Crotchett in a letter to the Spectator on December 18, 1711. In it he offers 
his services (for compensation, as he is without employment) as Comptroller 
General for the Cries of London, which he feels lack discipline. He refers to both 
vocal and instrumental cries—the “twanking” of pots and pans and the sow 
gelder’s horn—and says they are full of “incongruities and barbarisms,” that 
London appears “a distracted city.” He offers to “sweeten and mellow the voices 
. . . and to take care that those may not make the most noise who have the 
least to sell.” He then cites the match seller who was so raucous that a potential 


50 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


■i c 



The beetle exterminator, from Carle Vernet’s 
Cris de Paris, published about 1822. 


customer paid him to stay off his street. What a surprise when the next day all 
of the match sellers in the neighborhood came by his house in the hopes that 
they too would be paid off! But worst of all, says Crotchett, is “that idle accom¬ 
plishment which they all of them aim at of crying so as not to be understood.” 

Mentioned previously was the set of 120 Hamburg cries (Christoffer Suhr’s 
Der Ausruf in Hamburg ) published in 1808 and reissued in 1908 in facsimile. 
The hand-colored aquatints of the original edition with their titles in Low Ger¬ 
man have a clearly German character and reflect the customs of the city. A 
number of the prints are night scenes, which is rather unusual although Mitelli 
included one night scene in his Bolognese set. The costumes, particularly of the 
women, are neat, colorful, and most attractive—certainly not indicative of the 
poverty one might expect. Perhaps Suhr is idealizing a bit or perhaps he merely 
carries on the tradition of costume pictures. Compare these well-dressed, cheer¬ 
ful people with those in Carle Vernet’s Cris de Paris, whose patched clothes and 
downcast faces present more the picture one expects. This set of 100 colored 
lithographs is one of the best known and most popular of the numerous French 
series and is an important, recent addition to the Library’s collections. In the 
play Les Cris de Paris previously mentioned, an actor named Vernet appeared. 12 
Whether this is pure coincidence or whether the artist actually took part re¬ 
mains a matter of conjecture, but it is likely that he at least knew the produc¬ 
tion. One of the most charming of the prints shows a long outmoded method 
of extermination: a young man carries branches to attract June bugs, which he 
then catches and puts into his sack. At the same time he calls to the children 
and offers to pay for each dozen they bring him. A law enacted in France in 
1791 had provided for paying a bounty on the destructive beetles. 

To this point the series mentioned have all appeared in roughly the same 
form—one or two large figures overshadowing a sketchy background, each trade 
filling a page. Cries appear, however, in many forms. One sheet titled Strassen- 
bilder, published in Stuttgart with German, Dutch, English, French, and Spanish 
captions, contains six scenes. Intended primarily for children, it is a sort of fore¬ 
runner of today’s comic strip. Two sets in a private California collection are 
attached to scrolls placed in boxes with spools at either end which one turns in 
viewing. In children’s books of both British and American cries, the cuts are 
interspersed through the text. 

The English editions for children were the chief factor in creating interest 
in the cries in the United States. Many American editions were published begin¬ 
ning in the last quarter of the eighteenth century and continuing well into the 


Street Cries in Pictures / 51 





Street scenes, published in Stuttgart. 



/ 

■'< s / / <// 


Y//t 


< < 




Bel Me.xaif i.t 

v 

? ' n 

I * 

■ t 


rwi jn^tsufpidSlc Dir Ovpsfi^UTCuhandlcT. DeflandcJaariit fi^-rsvaitp'-..■- 
le vsfldeur dt plalrait _ 

• .*.• ; . r 


Tfc-. y;iK < al 
■> 

' . ischm 


(Ltrhmadcfwn 
la In litre. 



TL: Pisimicii^sr Der Ftschhaiullet DeVischvuKu r 
:e uiassoi mer 





Hie Drslschat 

!» ^aise 


Dp druse'.t: 


"hcJT^aras DerJr^eisp.der 
ittoueur d'ortues. 
0 trim it jr^udlU. 


DeOr^elspse.tt The fr-aii-woman 

6ft /’(rdUu/i . t OluUjjrt 


Die Otothandlerm Dt FnntterAjops.- /■'.» 
I> fruili^ 

U frutrri 


52 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 











nineteenth. These little books not only acquaint the reader with the customs of 
the city but teach a moral lesson as well and sometimes even include a bit of 
propaganda for the parent. The wood engraving technique of Thomas Bewick 
replaced the more elegant copperplate engraving of the eighteenth century and 
was adopted for the American editions. It is likely that Alexander Anderson, the 
first wood engraver in America, and his students and followers were responsible 
for many of the images produced here. Anderson was a self-taught engraver who 
became interested in the work of Bewick and who is known to have worked for 
publishers of juvenile books. William Ralph, John Hall, and William Croome 
have initialed some of their works so these at least can be identified with cer¬ 
tainty. 

Many editions of the London Cries were printed in the United States. They 
prompted the Cries of Philadelphia first advertised in 1787 and those of New 
York dating from 1808. Although based on the English books the text has been 
altered so that it pertains only to American places. For example there are refer¬ 
ences to New Jersey watermelons and Long Island oysters. An 1810 edition of 
Philadelphia Cries, of which the Library has a copy, is an adaptation of the 
1808 New York Cries with some of the same illustrations (or close copies) and 
the text only slightly altered. One of the changes is the inclusion of a Negro 
selling pepper-pot soup, a dish apparently not known in New York. In a book 
illustrated by William Croome, City Cries: or a Peep at Scenes in Town, are a 
number of Negroes—one selling hominy, who was said to be the most musical 
of all the city’s criers, and another who offers to split wood. 

An American alphabet table of twenty-four cries (letters J and U omitted) 
is in the Rare Book Division. This treatment was not uncommon both here and 
in England. One of the particularly attractive British examples is by the poster 
artist William Nicholson, who included two cries in his book An Alphabet. 

These then are a few examples of the application of a subject popular for 
four centuries. One can also find cries in costume books, almanacs, playing cards, 
and china figurines. Figurines were made of Lucia Elizabeth Vestris, who popu¬ 
larized the song Buy a Broom quoted at the beginning of this article. Sigmund 
Krausz made and copyrighted in 1891 a set of photographs of people who fre¬ 
quented the streets of Chicago—among them a knife grinder and a bill poster. 
This set is in the Prints and Photographs Division. 

The iconography of street life is probably the most fascinating aspect of 
these pictures, although stylistically it is interesting to see the great variation 
from crude drawings, to cartoons, to sophisticated sets. One is grateful that these 


Street Cries in Pictures / 53 


The flower girl, from An Alphabet by William 
Nicholson, published in New York in 1898. 



54 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 



once necessary and colorful figures have been preserved for us by artists with 
varying approaches, who give us pictorial documentation of the habits, tastes, 
dress, and even language of a dying order and of bygone times. If one feels 
momentarily relieved to think that our streets are no longer filled with hawkers 
outshouting one another, one must then ask if today’s traffic is preferable or 
whether present-day singing commercials are better than those that inspired 
them. Surely all will agree that these prints are a delightful mirror of this 
humble genre. 13 


NOTES 


1. George Unwin, The Gilds and Companies of London (New York: 1964), p. 33. 

2. Victor Fournel, Les Cris de Paris, types et physionomies d’autrefois (Paris: 1887), p. 5. 

3. William Langland, Piers Plowman, ed. Elizabeth Salter and Derek Pearsall (London: 
1967), p. 66. 

4. Eleanor Prescott Hammond, English Verse Between Chaucer and Surrey (New York: 
1965), p. 239. 

5. Charles Hindley, History of the Cries of London, Ancient and Modern, 2d ed. (London, 
1884), p. 8. 

6. Winifred Smith, The commedia dell’arte (New York: 1964) , p. 117, n. 

7. Christoffer Suhr, Der Ausruf in Hamburg (Hamburg: 1963), p. 5. 

8. Denis Mahon, Studies in seicento art and theory (London: 1947), pp. 233—40. 

9. Achille Bertarelli, Le incisioni di Giuseppe Maria Mitelli (Milan: 1940), p. 50. 

11. Gole copied ten of the Laroon designs. See F. W. H. Holstein’s Dutch and Flemish 

11. Gole copied ten of the Laroon designs. See F. W. H. Folstein’s Dutch and Flemish 

Etchings, Engravings and Woodcuts ca. 1450-1700, vol. VII, (Amsterdam: 1952) , p. 206. 

12. Fournel, Les Cris de Paris, p. 8. 

13. Other works on the subject of this article include the following: 

Sir Frederick Bridge, The Old Cryes of London (London: 1921). 

A. Hyatt Mayor, “Alive, Alive O,” in Metropolitan Museum of Art, Bulletin XI, no. 6 
(February 1953). 

William Roberts, The Cries of London (London: 1924). 

Marguerite P'itsch, Essai de catalogue sur I’iconographie de la vie populaire a Paris au 
XVIID siecle (Paris: 1952). 

Hyder Edward Rollins, A Pepysian Garland, Black-Letter Broadside Ballads of the Years 
1595-1639 (Cambridge: 1922). 


Street Cries in Pictures / 55 


Abraham S. Wolf Rosenbach, Early American Children’s Books (Portland: 1933). 

Andrew W. Tuer, London Cries: With Six Charming Children . . . and About Forty Other 
Illustrations (London and New York: n.d.) . 

Andrew W. Tuer, Old London Street Cries and the Cries of To-day With Heaps of Quaint 
Cuts Including Hand-Coloured Frontispiece by Andrew W. Tuer (London and New York: 1885). 

Rudolph Wittkower, The Drawings of the Carracci in the Collection of Her Majesty the 
Queen at Windsor Castle (London: 1952). 


Pictorial Street Cries in the Library 
of Congress Collections 


Carracci, Annibale. Diverse figure al numero di ottanta, disegnate de penna nell’ hore de 
Ricreatione, da Annibale Carracci intagliate in rame, E cavate, dagli Originali, da Simone 
Guilino Parigino per utile di tutti li virtuosi, et intendenti, Della Professione della Pittura, 
e del Disegno. In Roma, Nella Stamperia de Lodovico Grigniani . . . [1646] 41 cm NC1155.C3 

Contents: title page; table of contents; portrait of Carracci with inscriptions AL del (for 
Alessandro Algardi), sg (for Simon Guillain) , Romae, MDCXLVI; 80 etchings numbered 1 to 
80 (no no. 18; two no. 19). Most of the etchings had earlier numbers now burnished out in 
varying degrees and carry the signatures, initials, or monograms of artist and engraver; plates 
14, 15, and 69 have only the artist, and plates 25, 53, 54, 56, 57, 61, 62, and 64 have neither. 

Carracci, Annibale. Le arti di Bologna da Annibale Caracci ed intagliate da Simone Guilini 
coll’ assistenza di Alessandro Algardi. Aggiuntavi la Vita del sudetto Anniballe Caracci ... in 
Roma, MDCCXL (1740) Apresso Gregorio Roisecco Mercante de’ Libri .... 38.1 cm. 

NCI 155.C28 

Contents: hard cover with image of newsboy; first title page with heads of nine criers; 
imprimatur on verso; four-page life of Carracci; his portrait (AL del, sg, Romae MDCXLVI 
erased) ; 80 etchings with black line borders, new numbers, and titles. The signature of the 
engraver is gone on all of the plates and that of the artist is gone on plates, 25, 40, 48, 52, 53, 
54, 56, 57, 61, 62, 64, 78, 79. There is a new signature for the artist on plate 11. 


Busby, T. L. Costume of the lower orders of London painted and engraved from nature by 
T. L. Busby. London, published for T. L. Busby by Messrs Baldwin and Co., Paternoster-Row 
. . . [1820] 30.4 cm. GT737.B8 

Contents: frontispiece of sandwich man advertising the book in English and French; title 
page; two-page introduction; 23 hand-colored etchings of members of the lower orders alternat¬ 
ing with pages of text. Each plate inscribed by artist and published with dates from November 
1, 1819, to August 15, 1820. 


56 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


City cries or a peep at scenes in town. By an observor. Illustrated with twenty-four designs by 
[William] Croome. Philadelphia, George S. Appleton, 164 Chestnut St.; New York, D. Appleton 
& Co., 200 Broadway. 1851.14 cm. PZ6.C499 

Contents: hard cover with image of newsboy; first title page with heads of none criers; 
title page with copyright inscription on verso; two-page introduction; two-page table of con¬ 
tents; text (p. 9-102) with 24 wood engravings interspersed; title page of publisher’s catalog 
of juvenile works and 15 pages of advertising. 

The cries of Banbury and London and celebrated stories. Banbury, printed by J. G. Rusher, 
n.d. 9.9 cm. Juv. Coll. 

Contents: title page with wood engraving of market women numbered pages 2-16, each 
with wood engraving and text below. 

Cries of London. Part first. New York, printed and sold by Mahlon Day at the New Juvenile 
Book Store, no. 376, Pearl Street, n.d. 16.6 cm. DA688.C88 

Contents: dust cover with wood engraving of rabbit seller; eight pages of hand-colored 
wood engravings with text below; advertisements for juvenile books and toys on back cover. 

The cries of London. New York, printed and sold by S[amuel] Wood at the Juvenile Book 
Store, no. 357 Pearl Street, 1811.10 cm. 1911 Juv. Coll. 

Contents: title page with wood engraving of St. Paul’s Cathedral and on verso a description 
of London; poetical description of the British metropolis on recto and verso; second title page 
with dust man; numbered pages 6-29. 

The cries of London. Cooperstown, stereotyped, printed and sold by H. & E. Phinney, 1834. 
9.2 cm. 1834 Juv. Coll. 

Contents: dust cover dated 1836 with wood engraving of crier and with Phinney misspelled 
Plinney; first title page with alphabet on verso; title page with St. Paul’s Cathedral, and dated 
1834, and with description of London on verso; poetical description of the British metropolis on 
recto and verso; second title page with dust man; 31 numbered pages, each with a wood en¬ 
graving of a crier; two wood engravings of boys on verso of dust cover. Pages 8, 11, 14, 20, 23, 
26, and 27 signed or initialed by John Hall. The wood engravings are, in the main, copies in 
reverse of 1811 edition published by S. Wood. 

Four other editions of the Cooperstown Cries may be described as follows: 

1824. Lacks outer cover; first title page with alphabet on verso; lacks pages 29-31. 

1824 Juv. Coll. 

1834. Lacks first title page and page 31. Dust cover misspells Phinney as Plinney. 

1834 Juv. Coll. 

1839. Lacks dust cover, first title page, poetical description, and page 31. 

DA 688.C86. 1839 Min. Case 

1849. Lacks dust cover, first title page, and page 31. 1849 Juv. Coll. 

The cries of London, as they are daily exhibited in the streets with an epigram in verse. 


Street Cries in Pictures / 57 


adapted to each. Embellished with elegant characteristic engravings. “Let none despise, the 
merry cries of famous London Town.” Philadelphia, published by Johnson & Warner, no. 147, 
Market Street. 1813 Part IV. 16.4 cm. DA688.C7 

Contents: dust cover with title; title page with addition: printed for Benjamin Johnson, 
no. 22 North Second Street . . . ; 12 hand-colored engravings of cries alternating with numbered 
pages of text. 

The cries of Philadelphia: ornamented with elegant woodcuts. Philadelphia, published by 
Johnson and Warner, no. 147 Market Street. John Bouvier, printer. 1810. 12.6 cm. 1810 Juv. Coll. 

Contents: title page with woodengraving of the Battery in New York and description of 
Philadelphia on verso; pages 4-36 with 24 hand-colored wood engravings interspersed through¬ 
out the text. Although four illustrations are new, most of them are imitations of the New York 
Cries of 1808 and the text is altered only slightly. 


[Laroon, Marcellus] The cryes of the City of London drawne after the life; in 74 copper plates. 
Les cris de la Ville de Londres dessignez apres la nature. L’arti comuni che vanno p[er] Londra 
fatta dal naturale. P. Tempest excudit cum privilegie. London, printed & sold by Henry 
Overton at the White Horse without Newgate . . . 1711. NC1115.L3 

Contents: title page with etching of man resting numbered 1; plates 2-74 numbered and 
captioned in English, French, and Italian and inscribed “MLauron delin; P. Tempest ex. (exc. 
or excud.) cum privilegio.” Second title page, plate 37, lacking date. Plates 24 and 71 carry 
inscription of the engraver, J. Savage; plates 13, 25, 49, and 62 carry inscription of Overton; 
plates 53 and 71 carry English titles only; plate 67 carries a corrupted Latin caption; plate 74 
carries a Latin caption. 

An album with the same title contains 80 etchings cut and mounted onto other leaves, 
many of which are watermarked 1813. Some plates are unchanged but most are strengthened 
and many have the inscriptions, numbers, and/or captions omitted. Alterations in costume 
occur in plates 5, 11, 20, 21, 25, 26, 28, 32, 36, 40, 42, 44, 46, and 59. Plate 23 is by Jacob Gole 
and reverses the original image. Following plate 74 are six extraneous ones: (1) A title page 
of the Cries of London in six parts, being a collection of seventy-two humorous prints, drawn 
from the life by that celebrated artist, Laroon, with additions & improvements by L. P. Boitard 
(with illustration). Boitard delint.; Ravenet sculpt. (2) Plate no. 1, part 2nd of the London 
Cries in 12 prints, plate 13. F. Boucher del.; P. Angier sculp. Dainty Sweet Nosegay. (3) Plate 
no, 1, part 3rd . . . no. 25, Tiddy Diddy Doll, loll, loll, loll. (4) Plate has only the caption 
buy my curds and whey. (5) No. 12:72 with the caption Buy my right Yorkshire cakes, buy my 
muffins. (6) No. 3:15, the celebrated Miss Wilkinson the female wire dancer (slightly changed 
from plate in Laroon). 

[Loire, Leon Henri Antoine. Russian cries] Published by Daziaro, Moscow and St. Petersburg. 
[18—] 12.8 cm. 

Prints and Photographs Division, lot 9887 

Contents: Twenty-four numbered lithographs with publisher’s name on nos. 5, 11, 17, 23. 
Signature L. Loire on stone of nos. 13-24. 


58 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


London cries and public edifices from sketches on the spot by Luke Limner. London, Griffith 
and Farran, comer of St. Paul’s Churchyard. [1847] 14.1 cm. DA688.L37 

Contents: hard cover with title and illustration; title page; 24 pen lithographs interspersed 
through 24 pages of text. Each plate has the place name inscribed above the image and the 
cry below it. 

[Mitelli, Giuseppe Maria. L’arti per via disegnate . . . dal Sig Giuseppe Ma. Mittelli . . . 
Franco Curti intaglio. Gioseppe Longhi forma in Bologna, n.d.] 33.4 cm. 

Prints and Photographs Division 
Contents: lacks title page; 40 unnumbered plates with Italian quatrain, signed by Mittelli 
(spelled Mitelli on two plates) and Curti except 3 plates signed only by Curti. 

[Modern London, being the history and present state of the British metropolis . . . London, 
R. Phillips, 1804] 26.2 cm. DA683.P54.1804a 

Contents: lacks title page; description of the plates representing the itinerant traders of 
London in their ordinary costume with notices of the remarkable places given in the back¬ 
ground. Thirty-one hand-colored engravings alternating with appropriate pages of text. Each 
plate gives place name above image and cry below it; Craig del.; published April 25, July 7, 
and August 7 and 25, 1804, by Richard Phillips, 71 St. Paul’s Church Yard. 

[More, Gottlob] Dresden types. 1895. Dresden, copyright Carl Tittmann. 43 cm. 

DD901.D745.M8 

Contents: dedication page; table of contents; 12 colored collotype reproductions of con¬ 
temporary street characters. 

The new cries of London. New York, printed and sold by Mahlon Day, at the New Juvenile 
Book Store, no. 376 Pearl Street. 1832. 14.1 cm. 1832 Juv. Coll. 

Contents: dust cover with title and wood engraving of pineapple seller; frontispiece with 
milkmaid; title page with wood engraving of pineapple seller; London anomalies pages [5]—6; 
23 pages each with w r ood engraving and poem below. 

An 1834 edition of the same work has a title page with wood engraving of an orange 
seller inserted between pages 22 and 23. 1834 Juv. Coll. 

Orlowski, G. Russian cries in correct portraiture from drawings done on the spot by G. 
Orlowski; and now in the possession of the Rt. Flonorable Lord Kinnaird, 1809. Pubd. March 
25 & sold by Edw. Orme, printseller to the king, engraver & publisher, Bond Street, Comer 
of Brook St., London. 35.6 cm. Prints and Photographs Division 

Contents: paper cover with title; title page with hand-colored etching by J. Swaine; eight 
hand-colored etchings and engravings, six with Russian and English titles, publishers note, 
and the signatures Orlowski del and J. Godby sculpt. 2 sheets cut inside inscriptions. 

Smith, John Thomas. The cries of London; exhibiting several of the itinerant traders of 
ancient and modern times. Copied from rare engravings, or drawn from the life by John 


Street Cries in Pictures / 59 


Thomas Smith, late keeper of the prints in the British Museum, with a memoir and portrait 
of the author. London, John Bowyer Nichols and Son. 25 Parliament Street, 1839. 28.2 cm. 

DA688.S654 

Contents: frontispiece, engraved portrait of Smith; title page with printer on verso; 
advertisement; table of contents and list of plates; biographical memoirs of the author (p. 
ix-xv); introduction (p. 1-11); 30 numbered and titled etchings each filling a page; and 95 
numbered pages of text. Postscript by the editor (p. [96]-99) ; final page with advertisement on 
verso. Numbers on plates 19 and 29 interchanged. Plates 14, 16, and 18-30 signed with Smith’s 
monogram; plates 15, 16, 18, 23, 25, 28, and 29 dated 1819. 

Smith, John Thomas. Etchings of remarkable beggars, itinerant traders and other persons of 
notoriety in London and its environs, by John Thomas Smith. London, published ... by John 
Thomas Smith, December 1st, 1815, No. 4 Chandos Street, Covent Garden. 36.5 cm. NE2195.57 
Contents: engraved title page with coat of arms of Westminster and London; 20 unnum¬ 
bered etchings of the lower orders with Smith’s monogram and the inscription of the publisher. 


[Suhr, Christoffer] Der Ausruf in Hamburg, vorgestellt in Ein hundert und Zwanzig colorirten 
Blattern gezeichnet und geazt von Professor [Christoffer] Suhr. Mit Erklarungen begleitet. [A 
facsimile edition bearing the imprint Hamburg, 1808, issued with an introduction by Dr. J. 
Heckscher. Berlin, Hermann Barsdorf, 1908] 23.6 cm. GT3450.S8 

Contents: colophon; preliminary title page; title page; four-page introduction; four-page 
index of plates; 22-page introduction by Heckscher; 146-page description of the plates; page of 
errata with instructions for bookbinder on verso; 120 plates. 


Ticklecheek, Timothy. The cries of London displaying the manners, customs and characters of 
various people who traverse London streets with articles to sell to which is added some pretty 
poetry intended to amuse and instruct all good children with London and the country con¬ 
trasted, written by Timothy Ticklecheek. Embellished with thirteen elegant copper plate prints, 
Youth’s Pocket Library, entered at Stationers Hall, London published by J. Fairbum, 146 
Minories, 1797. 10.7 cm. GT 3450.T5 

Contents: frontispiece with engraving of flower seller; title page; preface (p. 3-8) ; text 
(p. 9-54) with engravings interspersed facing pages 13, 16, 19, 22, 25, 28, 31, 34, 37, 40, 45, 46. 

The uncle’s present, a new battledore. Published by Jacob Johnson, 147 Market Street, Phila¬ 
delphia. n.d. 18 cm. PE1119.A1.U5 

Contents: alphabet table with 24 letters accompanied by an appropriate crier in wood en¬ 
graving; letters U and J omitted. 

[Vemet, Carle] Cris de Paris dessines d’apres nature par C. Vernet. A Paris, chez Delpech quai 
Voltaire N° 3. [1822?] 36 cm. Rosenwald Coll. 

Contents: title page; 100 numbered, colored lithographs (plate 25 missing) signed on stone 
by the artist and with the inscription of the lithographer; French titles with cry below. 


60 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


Zompini, Gaetano. Le arti che vanno per via nella citta di Venezia inventate, ed incise da 
Gaetano Zompini. Agiuntavi una memoria di detto Autore . . . Venezia MDCCLXXXV (1785). 
33 cm. [Second edition] NE1713.Z7 1785 

Contents: title page; frontispiece with title; table of contents; 60 numbered but unsigned 
plates, each with a triplet in Italian and English translation pasted below. According to Ren£ 
Colas, Bibliographic Generate du costume et de la mode (Paris, 1933) , item 3120, the first 
edition of this work was published in 1753. 

Zompini, Gaetano. Le arti che vanno per via nella citta di Venezia inventate, ed incise da 
Gaetano Zompini. Published by Lackington Allen and Co. Temple of the Muses. Finsbury 
Square. 1803. 43.4 cm. NE1713.Z7 1803 

Contents: frontispiece becomes title page with publisher’s entry; two pages of English 
verses; 60 numbered (but unsigned) plates with Italian triplet. 

Single Sheets in the Prints and Photographs Division 

Adam, Victor. Cris de Paris et moeurs populaire dessines par Victor Adam: Cries of Paris and 
plebian customs drawn by Victor Adam. Lith. de Lemercier. London, 1st February 1832 pub¬ 
lished by Ch. Tilt, 86 Fleet Street; [Paris] publie le 1 ® r Fevrier 1832 par H. Jeannin rue du 
Croissant, no. 20; New York, 1st Fevrier [sic] published by Bailly et [sic] Ward, no. 96 W. St. 
Sheet no. 1 with 15 lithographs of criers, captioned in French and English. 

Adam, Victor. Cris de Paris et moeurs populaire dessines par Victor Adam: Cries of Paris and 
plebian customs drawn by Victor Adam. Lith. de Lemercier. London, 1st March 1832, published 
by Ch. Tilt, 86 Fleet Street; publie a Paris 1 ® r Mars 1832 par Jeannin, rue du Croissant, no. 20; 
New York, 1st March 1832 published by Bailly et [sic] Ward, no. 96 Wm. St. 

Sheet no. 2 with 15 lithographs of criers, captioned in French and English. 

Duplessi-Bertaux, Jean. Suite des cris des marchands ambulants de Paris par J. D. Bertaux. 

Set of 12 numbered etchings signed with the initials of the artist except for nos. 2 and 3. 
Each image to outer border 8.5 x 5.8 cm. 

Le Prince, Jean Baptiste. Premiere suite de cris et divers marchands de Petersbourg et de 
Moscou, dessines d’apres nature. 

Six numbered etchings signed and dated either 1764 or 1765. 

Le Prince, Jean Baptiste. 2 me suitte [sic] de divers cris de marchands de Russie. 

Six numbered etchings, three of which are signed and dated 1765. 

Le Prince, Jean Baptiste. Ill® suitte de divers cris de marchands de Russie. 

Six numbered etchings signed and dated either 1767 or 1768. 

All of the above reprinted in Oeuvres de Jean-Baptiste le Prince . . . Paris, chez . . . Basan & 
Poignant . . . F. Chereau . . . MDCCLXXXII (1782). 


Street Cries in Pictures / 61 


Rowlandson, Thomas. Cries of London. Rowlandson delin.; Merke sculp. London, pub Jan ll , 
1799 at R. Ackermann’s 101 Strand. 

Nos. 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, and 8 of a set of eight hand-colored etchings, each image including 
border approximately 33.7 x 26.4 cm. 

Strassenbilder; sceneries to be seen in the streets; beeldenop de straten; sujets de la ville; 
figuras de calle. Bei F. G. Schulz in Stuttgart. 

Sheet no. 3, containing six scenes with captions in English, German, French, Dutch, Span¬ 
ish. Hand-colored lithographs. 42.1 cm. (sheet) . 


A British political cartoon by James Gillray, 
satirizing the unpopular Lord Sandwich. 
Published by H. Humphrey of New Bond 
Street, London, on December 3, 1796. In the 
Prints and Photographs Division. 



62 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 




































Guild Days in Norwich 


by Edgar Breitenbach 


Nearly fifty years ago, the Library of Congress acquired an intriguing volume 
from Maggs Brothers in London. Offered as “A most interesting and valuable 
book for designs used on the banners carried in the processions on the annual 
guild days 1683—1718. 186 drawings on 52 folio leaves,” it was priced at 27/10/0. 
As sometimes happens in large collections, no attempt was made at the time to 
identify the acquisition further. 

The book is bound in cardboard covers, with a leather strip along the 
spine. Clippings from two British sales catalogs of the late nineteenth or early 
twentieth century pasted on the front cover describe the book as a collection 
of ‘‘designs to be exhibited on houses on Guild Days about the time of Queen 
Anne.” The descriptions are nearly identical, but one of them carries the head¬ 
ing ‘‘London.” Although Maggs Brothers gives the correct total of leaves, they 
actually bear an old pagination running from 183 to 236. 1 The festival drawings 
occupy folio 184 r to 2IT. The remainder of the leaves are blank, except for 
two sanguine drawings on fol. 22T and fol. 232 r , both studies from the nude, and 
an entry on fol. 236 v listing heraldic designs which the compiler was commis¬ 
sioned to make. 2 

The records covering the annual festivals between the years 1683 and 1719 3 
follow a consistent pattern: there is the name of an elected official, which 
changes annually; mottoes, in Latin, English, or both languages, numbering be¬ 
tween five and eleven, 4 and an equal number of pen and wash drawings illustrat¬ 
ing these mottoes. The uniformity of the style leads us to believe that the 


63 



64 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth 


Century to 1800 



Above: Peasant couples riding through Norwich during Guild Days 
festival. Folio 201 v . 

Left: Folio 210 v shows mottoes and shield illustrations for the 1718 
Guild Days. The subjects included a fortune-teller, Dick Fool, a lawyer 
being bribed, and a boy presenting verses to. a lady. 








































A speech boy on horseback addressing a 
magistrate. Folio 193 T . 


drawings were made by one person and at one time, most likely soon after 1719. 
The fact that in two instances the artist makes changes or corrections 5 seems 
to indicate that they are copies of earlier models. The net impression one gains 
from surveying the whole is that the volume was assembled by someone with 
strong antiquarian interests. 

The Guild Days mentioned in all three bookdealers’ descriptions actually 
took place in Norwich, not in London as one of them claimed. 6 The annual 
Guild Days of Norwich, celebrating the installation of the new mayor, rivaled 
those of London in their sumptuousness and represented one of the most costly 
public spectacles of its kind in England. By 1731 the financial burden on the 
leading citizens of Norwich had become so unbearable, and the debts so high, 
that a thorough reform was necessary. 7 The celebrations continued as a civic 
pageant, although on a much reduced scale, until 1835, when the Municipal 
Corporations Act took effect, thus putting an end to what had once been one of 
the chief glories of Norwich. 

The Guild Days derive their name from the St. George’s Guild, which or¬ 
ganized the event annually from the late fourteenth century onward until its 
dissolution in 1731. The Guild was originally a religious fraternity, and each 
year it sponsored a procession in honor of St. George, the patron saint of Eng¬ 
land. After Henry VIII broke his ties with Rome and established the Church of 
England, the celebration became more and more secular. By the seventeenth 
century, the religious elements were all but forgotten; what survived was a 
splendid folk festival, which drew numerous spectators from far and wide. 

Benjamin Mackerell, 8 a local historian of the period, gives us an eyewitness 
account of the events during the last years of the Guild’s existence: 


About VIII. o-clock in the morning the whole body of the Court, S f 
George’s Company, and the Livery, met at the house of the New-Elect, 
where they were entertained with Sugar-Rolls and Sack; from thence they 
all proceeded, with the new elected Mayor along with them, to the Old 
Mayor’s, in the following manner: The Court first, S ( George’s Company 
next, and the Livery last. At the Mayor’s they had a Breakfast provided for 
them, of Pasties, Roasted Beef, and boiled Legs of Mutton. From whence, 
in an inverted order to the last viz. the Livery first, S* George’s Company 
next, and the Court last, they proceeded to the Cathedral Church, where a 


Guild Days in Norwich / 65 


Sermon was preached, always by the Minister of the Parish in which the 
Mayor lived, and was his Chaplain during his Mayoralty. When the Sermon 
was ended, the Court had their horses brought, finely caparisoned, which 
they mounted; and at the Entrance into the Royal Free-School, ivhich was 
curiously adorned with Greens and Flowers, in a Bower stood one of the 
Lads thereto belonging, who stood ready against the New Mayor should 
come up, to address himself to him in an Oration in Latin, as did several 
others in different places, on horseback, as the Court proceeded with their 
Robes of Justice, the Aldermen in their Scarlet, and the Sheriffs in their 
Violet Gowns, with each a white Wand in his hand, with Trumpets sound¬ 
ing, the City Music playing them along the streets, with the Standard of 
England carried before them. Then followed S l George’s Standard and Com- 

........ . ,, pany, supported by very tall stout men, who had dresses suitable and proper 

A Norwich girl representing a muse addressing r ... y ' . r 

the mayor and his entourage. Folio 201 T . f or them. In this manner they proceeded, though but slowly, occasioned by 



66 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 








their stopping several times in different places to hear the Speeches that were 
then repeated by the Free-School Boys before mentioned. Being arrived at 
the Guild-Hall in the Market, the New Elected Mayor had his Robe of Jus¬ 
tice put on to him, the Gold Chain put about his neck, the Keys of the Gates 
delivered to him, according to custom. He was then sworn, after which he 
generally made a speech to the Citizens to this purpose: “That since the 
Inhabitants of the City had conferred so great an honour upon him, he 
would endeavour to discharge this high Trust now reposed in him with the 
utmost fidelity and impartiality,” & c. 

After his Charge and Proclamation be read, the whole Body again remounted 
their Horses, and proceeded to the New-Hall, in the same manner they went 
to the Guild-Hall. After the whole Company were come into the Hall, and 
every one had placed himself to his own liking, or if at any time any dispute 
arose about precedency, that matter was always adjusted by the Alderman of 
the Feast. As soon as the Court and their Ladies, with the rest of the Com¬ 
pany were seated, the Dinner was served up: first at the Mayor’s table; next 
at S f George’s; and then, as fast as they could, all the rest of the tables were 
plentifully filled with great variety of all kinds of eatables, but little or no 
Butchers’ meat; but as to Pasties, Tarts, Pickles, Lobsters, Salmon, Sturgeon, 
Hams, Chickens, Turkies, Ducks, and Pigeons, in great plenty even to pro¬ 
fusion. And these all served up in good order, and besides what Beer every 
one chose to drink, either small or strong, a bottle of Wine was delivered to 
every Man to drink after dinner. . . . 

After the choice of the four Feast-Makers 9 for the next year be over, that 
the Banquets be given to the Ladies, and it grows towards Evening, the whole 
Body arose from their seats, and put themselves into order, and waited upon 
the New Mayor home, where all of them ivere again entertained with Sugar- 
Rolls and Sack; and then concluded the day with waiting upon the Old 
Mayor home; the Court first, S ( George’s Company next, and the Livery last, 
as in the Morning; where they stayed and drank as long as it was proper. 

The great Guns were many times discharged in the day; as betimes in 
the Morning, when the Mayor went and came from Church, and several 
times besides. 


Guild Days in Norwich / 57 



The Dragon carried in the procession. 



The whole Street, formerly the whole Parish that the Mayor lived in, 
was made as handsome as could be: the Streets were all strewn with green 
rushes, and planted with Trees, variety of Garlands, Ship Antients and 
Streamers in abundance; besides the outsides of the Houses were all covered 
with Tapestry Cloaths, and adorned with many curious Pictures, especially 
the New-Elect’s house. But as great damages have been done to many Pic¬ 
tures, and Tapestry Cloaths grown old and out of fashion, except such as are 
in panels, it may xoell be supposed that there will be no more of this for the 
future. 

The Dragon, carried by a Man in the body of it, gave great diversion 
to the common People: they always seemed very much to fear it when it was 
near them, but always looked upon it with pleasure when it was any little 
distance from them. The last Dragon was made but a few years ago, and was 
so contrived as to spread and clap his wings, distend or contract its head: 
it was made of basket-work, and painted Cloath over it. 

As there was always a multitude of people to see the Procession, it was 
necessary to have several Persons to keep them from coming too near, or 
break the Procession. For this purpose there were six Whifflers, somewhat 
like the Roman Gladiators, who were neatly dressed, and had the art of 
brandishing their very sharp Swords in the greatest Crowds with such dex¬ 
terity as to do harm to none; and of a sudden they would dart them up many 
yards into the air, and never failed catching them by their Hilts. 

To this purpose also a man or two in painted canvass coats, and redic- 
ulous red and yellow Cloth Caps, adorned with Cats’ Tails and small Bells, 
went up and down to clear the way, whose weapons were only small wands. 
These were called or known by the name of Dick-Fools; even these had their 
admirers, but it was amongst the Children and the Mobility. 


Dick-Fool with flags hanging out from the houses. 

68 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 
















Our book of drawings is a record of what the “Royal Free-School” contrib¬ 
uted to the Guild Days for the period of about four decades, between the years 
1683 and 1719, to which we have already alluded. It gives the name of the newly 
elected mayor, the year of his tenure, the mottoes on which the boys elaborated 
in their speeches, and the pictures serving to illustrate the mottoes. We shall ex¬ 
plain later how these pictures were used. 

The Royal Grammar School, known today as the Norwich School, is one of 
the oldest institutions of secondary education in England. Established by the 
bishops of Norwich as a monastic school, it was in existence as early as 1240. In 
1540, after the dissolution of the monasteries, the City of Norwich acquired the 
buildings of what had been a Dominican monastery and soon afterwards renamed 
its school the “Royal Grammar School.” Among its famous pupils were Admiral 
Lord Nelson and Rajah Brooke of Sarawak. The special role assigned to the 
school at the mayor’s inauguration was documented for the first time in an or¬ 
dinance of 1566. It stipulates that an orator, usually a schoolboy from the top 
form, should greet the mayor upon his arrival at the cathedral with a short speech 
in Latin “comending Justice and Obedyence or souche like matter,” while “every 
Scholler . . . that can make verses shall . . . have in readynes syxe verses . . . sub¬ 
scribed with his name, wch shall be affixed upon the West dore of the 
cathedrall.” 10 

At first, the connection between the schoolboy orations and the city pageant 
was a loose one. In the early seventeenth century, however, the orations became an 
integral and rather formalized part of the celebrations. There was always an 
orator, an older boy, who addressed the mayor from a bower erected at the 
school’s entrance, 11 and ten to twelve younger students who, splendidly attired, 
made their short speeches stationed on horseback along the route of the proces¬ 
sion. 12 We may assume that the theme of these speeches was derived from the 
mottoes. Although the boys practiced for many hours beforehand, as an added 
precaution should their memories fail, the text was inscribed on the inside of a 
small pasteboard shield. The front side of the shield bore the motto and a paint¬ 
ing illustrating its meaning, so that the bystanders ignorant of Latin should have 
at least some clue as to what was going on. 

None of the orations or the short speeches seem to have been preserved ver¬ 
batim. By reading the mottoes, however, one forms a fairly good idea of what sen¬ 
timents were expressed. They followed a certain formula, as is customary for 
speeches of this kind. There were the standard references to classical mythology 
and history and, less frequently, to biblical stories, literature (Don Quixote), and 


Guild Days in Norwich / 69 






J &ct in a* i ^2/^j «: iye 'f 


Sf 5. /* r tl 

n t/ntf-f Cirytuv Wt*urfbn °%!/^ r 
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77ze mayor’s name and 
mottoes for 1707 are shown. 
The illustration, "three or 
four Hawkers crying news’’ 
was to accompany the first 
motto. Folio 201*. 


70 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 
























contemporary events and personages (the Duke of Marlborough). All of the sub¬ 
jects were no doubt intended to illustrate civic and personal virtues and, by im¬ 
plication, to demonstrate the students’ broad range of knowledge. Naturally, 
allusions were made to the festival events of the day, to Snap the Dragon and to 
Dick Fool, and to the huge crowds that the Guild Day attracted. As a grand finale, 
there was a salute to “His Worship the Mayor,” as well as a tribute to the might 
and glory of the city of Norwich. 

The documents do not make it clear whether the boys wrote their own- 
speeches or were given a prepared text; possibly the masters supervised their ef¬ 
forts. It seems that different approaches were taken at various times. Occasionally, 
the speeches met with criticism. In 1723 the usher of the school was ordered to 
bring before the Court the speeches delivered on the previous Guild Day; there¬ 
after he was commanded to submit them to the mayor in advance. 13 It may have 
been a youth’s greatest ambition to be chosen as orator, yet only those with 
wealthy parents could afford it. It meant new clothes, with laces and gold- and 
silver-thread embroidery, and the availability of a horse, “the best . . . that could 
be procured in the whole county . . . richly adorned and dressed up with ribbons 
wherever they could be fastened.” Although Mackerell does not say so, on£ may 
assume that the artist who painted the shields had also to be paid. We can only 
guess at the amount of social pressure that may sometimes have been applied to 
win the cooperation of the parents; the same techniques may have been used, too, 
in the selection of the feastmakers. At any rate, the reforms of 1731 also affected 
the tradition of the speech boys. 

No works of art are so ephemeral as those made for festivals. Over the years, 
countless paintings must have been produced to decorate the houses of the 
mayor’s parish, not to mention the pictures that adorned the shields of the 
schoolboys. Almost nothing has been preserved and the names of the artists have 
long been forgotten, although some may lie hidden in unpublished documents. 
This very fact lends special importance to the Library’s compendium of draw¬ 
ings, which is quite likely the most comprehensive pictorial record of the Norwich 
Guild Days in existence. Since these are copies, we can only guess how the orig¬ 
inals looked. Some of the scenes suggest that their creators were well versed in 
stage design. 11 The artists were familiar with classical and biblical iconography 
transmitted through prints, and they made much use of emblem books. What 
fascinates us most today, however, are the numerous scenes from contemporary 
life. There are drawings of orator and speech boys, and of the mayor’s procession, 
with careful attention paid to the hat, mace, and sword, the symbols of his office. 


Guild Days in Norwich / 71 



72 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


























Dutch merchant ships. Folio 192 T . 



Left: Boys rehearsing speeches before their 
master. Folio 201 v . 


We are introduced to Snap the Dragon, a last vestige of an earlier time when the 
image of St. George slaying the dragon was carried in the procession, and to a 
town girl posing as a muse who addresses the mayor unaware that her medieval 
predecessor represented the princess rescued by St. George from the monster. 
Some of the spectators are shown, simple peasants riding into town with their 
wives. We notice a cobbler’s shop, boys selling newspapers, a peep show, a lady 
at a palmist’s, and a funeral procession. Coffeehouse scenes showing the smoking 
of long clay pipes occur quite often; in one of these drawings a young man lights 
his pipe by letting a sunbeam pass through a lens. There are also scenes of money¬ 
lenders and lawyers in their offices and of a lawyer being offered a bribe. Draw¬ 
ings showing cargo vessels flying the British, French, and Dutch flags serve to 
emphasize the city’s wide trade connections and proximity to the sea. The final 
picture in the collection shows “A Wherry with passengers going down to Yar¬ 
mouth.” 

What one is apt to overlook is the fact that all of these glimpses of contem¬ 
porary life in Norwich around 1700 actually serve to illustrate mottoes taken 
from classics. We have not attempted to trace the literary sources, yet most likely 


Guild Days in Norwich / Td 




they are taken from school texts of Vergil, Ovid, Cicero, and a few others. To 
illustrate an abstract idea, the authors of emblem books frequently made use of 
pictures of commonplace events. The gulf between the thought expressed in a 
motto and its pictorial equivalent is often so wide that one can sympathize with 
Mr. Ewing, who at times despaired of understanding the pictures in terms of the 
mottoes. 15 Ewing’s remarks show clearly how far removed he already was from 
the baroque way of thinking. The moment one ignores the literary-pictorial 
equation, the pictures, taken by themselves, become intelligible, the more so when 
expressed in purely vernacular terms. As we look at them, we become one in 
spirit with the happy festival crowds of Norwich. 



A funeral procession in Norwich. 

NOTES 


1. Two watermarks occur, a shield surmounted by a fleur-de-lis, and the capital letters LA. 

2. On p. 236 v the following entry: “An account of what I have Given to S' Henry S* 
George concerning Heraldry. Since I received a Pattant from him. 

first of Mr. William Cory his Funerall 

of Mr. Richard Haight his Wife’s Funerall 
of Mr. Thomas Hoggans (or Hoogans) Funerall 
of S r William Cooks Mother an Hatchment 
of William de Grey of Marton Esqr his Funerall.” 

3. The records for the years 1695-99 are omitted; those for 1702 were evidently left out 
by mistake and then entered on the first page, fol. 184. r 

4. A few of them are in Greek. There are no mottoes listed in 1686 and 1711. 

5. In copying the pictures for 1709 he drew in reverse the figure of Tomyris holding the 
severed head of Cyrus over a bowl and then drew the same figure correctly next to it. Under 
the attendant figure of an old man he wrote: “place this figure lower by the table.” For the 
year 1718 he separates the charging Don Quixote from the windmill, which in his version 
is being attacked by a man on foot. He corrected his mistake by writing “not this” next to the 
foot soldier, and "the windmill here” next to Don Quixote. It is not clear if some mechanical 
device was used. 

6. We are greatly indebted to James L. Howgego, director of the Guildhall Library in 
London, and to his deputy librarian John Bromley, who referred us to a publication entitled 
Notices and Illustrations of the Costumes, Processions, Pageantry, etc., formerly displayed by 
the Corporation of Norwich (Norwich: Charles Muskett, 1850). The book, published anony- 


74 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 



Peasant couple riding on horseback. 


raously, was written by William C. Ewing, a local historian, who states in the preface that he 
has been “considerably assisted by a Book of Drawings, made nearly a century and a half ago, 
in the possession of the Editor” (i.e., Ewing himself). The illustrations in his book leave no 

doubt that our book is identical to the one once owned by Ewing. We were unable to estab¬ 

lish when and where his estate was sold. Miss Rachel Young, assistant director of the Castle 
Museum in Norwich, informed us that Ewing left Nonvich in 1854 or shortly thereafter and 
that he died sometime before August 1864. We want to express our gratitude to Miss Young 
for patiently answering our numerous questions. The only copy of Ewing’s book that could 
be located in the United States is owned by the library of the University of Illinois; we are 
grateful to the librarian for making it available to us though interlibrary loan. 

7. See A. D. Bayne, A Comprehensive History of Norwich (London: 1869) , p. 182. 

8. Quoted in Ewing’s Notices and Illustrations . . pp. 20-21. 

9. To be chosen to serve as a feast-maker was an honor, but it also entailed a heavy 

financial burden, as the feast-makers had to pay the bills for these lavish banquets. Absenteeism 
was high among potential candidates who could not afford the expense, but it did not help 
them in the least. The garland, symbol of the election, was sent to their house; if they refused 
to serve they had to pay a stiff fine. Social pressure of this kind finally led to the downfall of 
the Guild. To quote again from Mackerell’s text: “Thus fell this honourable tyrannical com¬ 
pany, who had lorded it over the rest of the citizens, by laws of their own making, for an 
hundred and fourscore years; had made all ranks of men submit to them; neither had they any 
regard to the meanness of persons’ circumstances, by which they had been the ruin of many 
families, and had occasioned much rancour and uneasiness every annual election of common- 
councilmen, when the conquerors always put the vanquished on to the livery; thereby delivering 
them over to the mercy of St. George, who was sure to have a pluck at them as they assembled 
and met together; until this gentleman alderman Clarke had the courage to oppose and with¬ 
stand them; and having taken a great deal of pains and time, at last effected this great work, 
and brought this insolent company to a final period; for which good deed he ought to have 
his name transmitted to the latest posterity.” Quoted from Susan S. Madders’ Rambles in an 
Old City (London: 1853) , pp. 219-20. 

10. H. W. Saunders, A History of the Norwich Grammar School (London: 1932), p. 151. 

11. The bower was considered to be the classic surrounding for a poet and scholar. 

12. If our codex lists fewer than ten mottoes in a given year, it'does not necessarily mean 
that there was a smaller contingent of boys, but that presumably the remaining mottoes were 
no longer available to the compiler of the drawings. 

13. Saunders, p. 301. One wonders whether the illustration of motto 6 for 1691 is not a 
case in point. The motto reads, harmlessly enough, “Dux faemina facti,” which is rendered 
into English simply as “Ye riding.” The picture shows a peasant couple riding on horseback, 
yet instead of the husband sitting in the saddle with the wife behind (as portrayed in another 
drawing), she sits in the saddle, while the husband in back of her has horns on his forehead. 

14. We want to thank James G. McManaway of the Folger Shakespeare Library, Washing¬ 
ton, D.C., and Martin Holmes, Castle Bank, Appleby, Westmoreland, England, for their interest 
in the Norwich compendium. Both scholars looked for possible connections between our 
drawings and stage designs. 

15. Ewing, Notices and Illustrations . . ., preface. 


Guild Days in Norwich / 75 


Three Italian Drawings 


by Edgar Breitenbach 


Three Italian drawings of the mid-eighteenth century that have been in the 
Library for a long time have somehow never received the attention they deserve. 
All three are very large, one being a kind of poster, and the other two being 
architectural drawings. 1 

The poster is a pen-and-wash drawing measuring 76 by 52.1 centimeters. It is, 
strictly speaking, a poster within a poster, the inner one being a broadsheet sur¬ 
rounded by a rococo frame consisting of figurative scenes, rocaille, entwined trees 
and plants, and at the top, three coats of arms. The inner poster is rendered in 
trompe l’oeil fashion, pretending to be a printed broadsheet, curled at the corners 
with dragonflies flitting across it. 

Although it lacks a signature, there are certain clues as to the type of artist 
likely to have made this drawing. The figurative elements of the framework reveal 
a man of quite modest achievement. He is much better equipped to render plants, 
rocaille ornaments, and above all, lettering. At the end of the inscription under¬ 
neath the frame of the outer poster one sees the hand of a man holding a pen. 
The motif of a writing hand at the end of a text was occasionally used by writing 
masters. 2 One may thus assume that the creator of this drawing was a writing 
master by profession and, like many of his colleagues, a schoolmaster as well. No 
doubt he was active in Modena, since the subject matter of his design is closely 
tied to this city. 3 

The inner poster, the “printed” broadsheet, lists the towns and hamlets 
which compose the district of Modena. As the inscription in the lower margin 


76 



A'. Clemente. 

[& ufcriiML o Crmefl 
fi. Cataldo _ 


S. Martino tl 
Niniofa. 
lWile 

Panzano. 

A. Pan^raziu 
lt.-uno'-. 


Roiiepilin <!i fSvfjtn- 
J. Rusuero 

,V. R«ru in Eli 
ilomaelio ili J'otlu 

tjMraiiCft-. 
AaUttrtu BuVxalino 
Aaflueto Panaio 
A'oroara- - 

Lorenzo 


V aiezzo ~ 
jjjCiuurt- 

® Motto. 
jHnrin 

^jOnMr.iiao >IiicAntunt. 
■« 4 A' Uoiiiko - 

fSJ. LuOi.it 
iQl'iei 1 . ^i'aWaiW. 

Giaeuino ~ 
ija!x CrtuluMHi . 

\ > Ci an until _ 

,>V Ltsi(m»na- 
iV MuJSit^no o J. Martino 
2l j. *■ ' M a nine 


An anonymous writing master’s poster of 
Modena listing the communities administered 
by the Modenese grain administration, the 
Congregazione d’Annona. LC-USZ62-55865. 


Three Italian Drawings / 77 



























explains, they were all under the direct supervision of the Congregazione d’An- 
nona, 4 a government agency which regulated the production and sale of grain 
products; hence the allusions to tilling the land and reaping the harvest, and the 
coat of arms of the Congregazione, displaying three spikes of wheat. The juris¬ 
diction of the agency was limited to the district of Modena. 

The communities mentioned in the drawing are also listed in a rare and, 
for its time (1750), quite unusual guidebook outlining the new administrative 
organization of the duchy of Modena. 5 Following the example of England and 
France, the Stato Estense, as the duchy was called, received a modern administra¬ 
tive structure during the long reign (1737-80) of Duke Francesco III while a 
similar change occurred in Austria. It was a gradual process finally completed in 
1754, when the duke moved to Milan as governor of Austrian Lombardy, whose 
ruler, Archduke Pietro Leopoldo, was a minor. The poster reflects a section of 
this governmental reorganization. We can only surmise as to its purpose; quite 
likely, it was made in the 1750s to publicize the functions of the Congregazione 
d’Annona. 

The two architectural drawings, measuring 51 by 75 centimeters, are the work 
of Francisco La Vega, an architect who played a very important part in the 
rediscovery of Herculaneum and Pompeii. From 1764 he worked in Herculaneum 
under the guidance of Roque Joaquin de Alcubierre, a Spanish military engineer 
whose death in 1780 left La Vega in sole charge of the excavations. For the map 
he drew of Herculaneum, a modern archeologist has praised La Vega as the “best 
of the eighteenth-century excavators.” 6 

The two drawings concern a theater and a ballroom which were to be built 
as an extension to the residence of the Spanish minister to Naples, Don Alphonso 
Clemente de Arostegui, by order of the king of Spain. One of the drawings shows 
the ground plan and exterior view, and the other, longitudinal and transversal 
cuts of the interior walls. The extension was to be built on a quite unusual site; 
on the roofs of a row of two-story buildings, which contained shops at ground 
level and living quarters or storage rooms on the upper floor. 7 Since these shops 
did not have sufficient depth to accommodate a ballroom and theater over them, 
the planned extension had to be made wider, forming a colonnade over the front 
of the shops. This new facade had to harmonize with the adjacent palace of the 
Spanish minister. The moldings around the windows were made to resemble 
those of the older building, and the spandrils of the arches were decorated with 
the royal insignia, the Bourbon lily, and the tower of Castile. Needless to say, 
the building material used for this project was wood, made to look like stone 


78 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


through the ingenuity of the stucco artisans. Thus, in its temporary character it 
is related to festival architecture, together with triumphal arches and modern 
fairground buildings. 

The second sheet, showing the interior walls and ceiling decorations as well 
as the stage, is exquisitely drawn, with numerous minute details. Like the Modena 
drawing, it too pays tribute to the trompe l’oeil fashion of the time by suggesting 
paper crumpled at the edges. The system of decoration is remarkable in showing 
an overwhelming influence of the recently discovered wall paintings in Her¬ 
culaneum. Instead of rococo ornamental exuberance, one notices here the 
restraint of incipient classicism. There is a rhythm of windows and delicately de¬ 
corated wall sections, with mirrors to which candlesticks are attached. The mid¬ 
dle of the center section is marked by a niche containing a statue, evidently one 
excavated in Herculaneum. For a contemporary visitor, expecting a vast, illusion- 
istic painting on the ceiling, as he would see in other places, whether castle or 
church, this ceiling, subdivided as it is into small compartments, each with its 
own decorative theme, must have come as a surprise. This system, too, is derived 
from the excavations, as are the many small, figurative scenes. The only allusion 
to contemporary power is found in the center section, where one notices heraldic 
emblems—the bars of Aragon and the pomegranate of Granada—and the insignia 
of the great knightly orders. 

La Vega further subdivided the vast sweep of space into three sections. On 
leaving the minister’s residence, one entered a room whose ceiling suggests the 
roof of a tent, with floral ornaments and a few classical scenes. Between this room 
and the larger center section was a gallery for the musicians. Both of these sec¬ 
tions served as a ballroom. At the far end was the stage with its machinery, and 
behind this, an exit passage leading to a stairway permitting descent toward the 
city. 

The occasion for which this unusual building was created was the wedding 
in May 1768 of a boy of seventeen, Ferdinand IV, king of the Two Sicilies (that 
is Naples and Sicily), and his fifteen-year-old bride, Maria Carolina of Austria. 
Ferdinand was the son of Charles III, king of Spain, who as a young man had 
wrested the Sicilian kingdom from the Austrians, and thus in 1734 became the 
first Bourbon king to rule over the Two Sicilies. He was considered a good ruler 
and there was much regret when in 1759, after the death of his older brother, 
King Ferdinand VI of Spain, he was called to Spain to succeed the latter and left 
his young son, the future Ferdinand IV, in Naples under a regency. 

Charles took a keen interest in the excavation of Herculaneum from its 


Three Italian Drawings / 79 


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Elevation of Francisco La Vega’s projected annex to the Spanish Legation in Naples, ca. 1765. LC—USZ62—51672. 


80 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 














































































S ». 


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Transversal cut of the projected annex. LC-USZ62-51671. 


Three Italian Drawings / 81 
















































inception in 1738, and it was he who in 1755 created the Accademia Ercolanese, 
of which La Vega became a member. 8 The king also paid for an expensive pub¬ 
lication to describe and illustrate his collection of artifacts, thereby spreading 
knowledge of the excavated objects over the rest of Europe. 9 One should keep 
these facts in mind, as it is quite possible that the unusual decoration of the ball¬ 
room actually reflected the king's taste. The choice of an architect who played a 
leading role in the excavations seems to support this assumption. 

Ferdinand’s young bride, Maria Carolina, was not the king’s first choice. He 
had been betrothed to her older sister, Maria Josepha, who died suddenly of 
smallpox on October 15, 1767, the eve of the day she was due to depart for 
Naples. This fact is important for the dating of La Vega’s drawings. All prepara¬ 
tions were completed by May 1767; consequently the two sketches must have 
been made at some time after the formal betrothal in 1764, probably in 1765. 
Even the serenata to be performed on the stage of the ballroom, II Giudizio 
d’Apollo, must have been completed at that time. It consisted of two parts, ap¬ 
parently corresponding to the two stage settings drawn by La Vega: the first rep¬ 
resents a stately, vaulted hall, flanked by rows of garlanded columns, the second, 
an idyllic seashore, reminiscent of the Bay of Naples. 10 

The arrangements for sending Maria Carolina as a substitute for her sister 
were made as speedily as circumstances would permit. In an age when monarchs 
held absolute power, the lot of princesses and, to a lesser extent, of princes, was 
not altogether to be envied. Since alliances between nations were based on family 
relationships, princesses frequently were pawns in the game of power politics. 
The marriage of Maria Carolina and that of her sister had both been arranged 
by Charles III of Spain and the princesses’ mother, the Empress Maria Theresa, 
archduchess of Austria and queen of Hungary and Bohemia, who was anxious to 
regain a political foothold in Naples through this marriage. The young princess 
accepted the arrangement without demur, but we know from her own letters and 
those of her brother, Leopold, who accompanied her to Naples and who later 
became emperor, that she left Austria with a heavy heart. We know, too, that 
she nearly had a nervous breakdown when her German entourage had to leave 
her at the Neapolitan border where she met her unprepossessing husband, whose 
uncouth manners shocked her. 11 The wedding celebration in Naples went on for 
a whole month. For the nobility it was a succession of banquets, balls, theatrical 
performances, and outings; for the common people it was a long-remembered folk 
festival with two Cockaigne towers offering free food and wine. 12 


82 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


Maria Theresa had, upon her daughter’s departure, given her a long treatise 
on how the young queen should behave in order to succeed in her new country. 
It is a moving document, inspired by wisdom and common sense. Two of her 
precepts were: never interfere in government affairs, and never choose a favorite. 
Nevertheless, since the king was a weak playboy who had little interest in ruling 
the country, the queen took the reins into her own hands, soon choosing a favor¬ 
ite, Sir John Acton, to be prime minister. Acton, a British officer, steered the 
country on an anti-French course. Naples was briefly occupied by French forces 
in 1799 and by Napoleon’s armies in 1805. The royal couple twice fled to Sicily. 
Maria Carolina died in 1814 in Hetzendorf, Austria, where she had lived in exile. 
Her husband returned to Naples after Napoleon’s downfall in 1815. His remain¬ 
ing ten years were a reign of ruthless tyranny. 

We have as yet no documentary evidence that La Vega’s building was ex¬ 
ecuted as planned. Such evidence may well be contained in Neapolitan or Spanish 
archives, in reports of foreign diplomats attending the wedding, or among the 
correspondence of the queen, who, like her mother, was an untiring letter writer. 

Although the main facts of his career have now been uncovered, Francisco 
La Vega remains a somewhat shadowy figure. Being primarily an architect 
engaged in underground excavations (it is interesting to note that the contem¬ 
porary buildings of Herculaneum were left standing above the excavations), he 
is not listed in any contemporary artists’ encyclopedias. As a Spaniard, he is not 
included in the biographical dictionaries of prominent Neapolitans. Most likely 
born in the 1730s, he may have developed his considerable skill as a designer at 
Portici, among the artists and scholars brought together by the king to describe, 
restore, and reproduce his amazing collection. His mentors may have been Luigi 
Vanvitelli and Camillo Paderni, both of whom were architects and designers. 
After completion of the work on the reproductions for the king’s catalog. La Vega 
seems to have been employed as an excavating architect. The only early encyclo¬ 
pedia to mention his is Pietro Zani’s Enciclopedia Metodica Critico-Ragionata 
delle Belle Arti. 13 There he is listed as Francesco de Vega, Spanish painter, active 
between 1736 and 1760; in the column under “merito” he gets the top epithet 
“bravissimo.” 


Three Italian Drawings / 83 


NOTES 


1. The Modena drawing was presented to the Library in 1915 by Mrs. Ridgely Hunt. There 
is no record of how the two architectural drawings were acquired. I suspect that they were 
transferred to the Library after 1945 with Nazi material which contains a number of pictures 
on the subject of theater architecture. 

2. Swiss Folk Art (Washington: Smithsonian Institution, 1968), exhibition catalog, no. 215. 
This drawing, dating from about 1800, was made by a retired school teacher and writing 
master. In both instances the lettering is good but the figures are weak. 

3. I want to express my indebtedness to Angelo Spaggioli of the Archivio di Stato in 
Modena for answering many questions, and to Michael A. Abelson, Nyack, N.Y., for lending 
me a copy of his very informative essay, “Le strutture amministrative nel ducato di Modena 
e l’ideale del buon govemo (1737-1755),” Rivista Storica Italiana 81 (1969) : 501-26. 

4. Annona is a Roman goddess of agriculture. The agency’s earlier name was “Congre- 
gazione dell’Abbondanza.” 

5. Catalogo delle citta e luoghi principali dello stato di Modena diviso in tre partimenti 
secondo I’uso della ducale cancelleria con una breve notizia de’ tribunali e magistrati residenti 
nella citta capitale, Modena, 1750. The publication is described by Luigi Amorth in Modena 
Capitate (Milan: Aldo Martello editore, 1967) , p. 195. 

6. Sir Charles Waldstein (Walston) and Leonard Shoobridge, Herculaneum, Past, Present, 
and Future (London: Macmillan & Co., 1908) , pp. 61, 80, 128-29. 

7. The minister’s residence and the adjacent shops were located in back of a long row of 
Naples granaries. A city map of 1775 shows these granaries at the Piazza della Conservazione 
de’ Grani Pubblici, now called Piazza Dante. See Cesare De Seta, Cartografia della Citta di 
Napoli (Naples: 1969), v. 3. 

8. Michelangelo Schipa, Nel Regno di Ferdinando IV Borbotie (Florence: Vallecchi editore, 
1938), pp. 132-33. 

9. This monumental publication started in 1755 with an unillustrated catalog by Ottavio 
Antonio Bayardi, Catalogo degli Antichi Monumenti . . . di Ercolano (Naples: 1755), followed 
by two volumes illustrating the paintings (Le Pitture Antiche d’Ercolano e Contorni Incise con 
Qualche Spiegazione (Naples: vol. 1, 1757; vol. 2, 1760) , and later, seven more, which do not 
concern us here. The vast numbers of plates included in these volumes were designed and en¬ 
graved by a group of artists working in the king’s palace at Portici. La Vega designed more 
than thirty plates, almost all of which are in volume one. He proudly signs himself as a 
Spaniard and Royal Designer in Portici. If he were young at that time, as I assume, he must 
have learned a great deal from his older colleagues who likewise contributed to the king’s 
publication. Among them was Luigi Vanvitelli (1700-1773), the architect of the splendid royal 
castle in Caserta which included a theater, and the father of Carlo Vanvitelli (1739-1821) , 
who in 1767 or 1768 built the pavilion at the Neapolitan border town of Portella for the 
reception of the young queen, another instance of a temporary building connected with the 
wedding. 

10. Schipa, Regno di Ferdinando, pp. 27-28. The title reads: II giudizio d’Apollo Serenata— 
In occasione di festeggiarsi le augustissime nozze di Ferdinando IV di Borbone—e—Maria 
Giuseppa d’Austria—Re e Regina delle Due Sicilie etc. etc—Per ordine di S.M.C. Carlo III—Re 
delle Spagne e dell’lndia—Solennizzata da S.E.—D. Alfonso Clemente de Arostegui—Ministro 
Plenipotenziario e Consigliere di Stato della prefata Maestra divisa in due Parti con inter- 


84 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


locutori Giunone, Pallade Venere, Apollo e coro di Muse. It is followed by a page of hand¬ 
written notes. 

11. Rules of protocol demanded that Maria Carolina travel to her new country as queen. 
Thus the wedding ceremony was performed in Vienna with her brother taking the place 
of the absent groom. As an example of Ferdinand’s oafish manners it may be mentioned that 
on his wedding night he rose at daybreak to go hunting. 

12. V. Florio, “Memorie Storiche Ossiano Annali Napolitani dal 1759 In Avanti,” Archivio 
Storico per le Province Napoletane 30 (1905) : 532. The erection of Cockaigne towers on special 
occasions was an old Neapolitan custom. In appearance, they suggested a fortress covered with 
food. When the king gave the signal, the people were asked to take the “fortress” by storm 
and help themselves to whatever food and drink they could get. There were similar “cuccagnas” 
at the celebration of the wedding of King Charles to Maria Amalia of Saxony (see Harold 
Acton, The Bourbons of Naples, 1734-1825 (London: Methuen & Co., 1956), pp. 42^45. 

13. Pietro Zani, Enciclopedia Metodica Critico-Ragionata delle Belle Arti, vol. 19 (Parma: 
Dalla Tipografia Ducale, 1817-24), p. 87. 


Three Italian Drawings / 85 


Some Architectural Designs of Latrobe 


by Fiske Kimball 


Benjamin Henry Latrobe, founder of the professional practice of architecture in 
America and designer of many of the finest buildings of the early Republic, 
landed at Norfolk, aged thirty-one, on March 20, 1796 (1795 as they still counted 
a date before the Spring solstice). Remotely of French descent on his father’s side, 
American on his mother’s, he was born in England, schooled in Germany, and 
had a sound professional training in architecture under Samuel Pepys Cockerell, 
and in engineering under Smeaton. He wrote and drew with facility; his mind 
and hands were never idle. A great mass of his diaries, letters and drawings sur¬ 
vives, chiefly in the hands of his descendants. It is from one of these, Cap. William 
Claiborne Latrobe, that three volumes of his architectural drawings have lately 
come by gift to the Library of Congress. They are drawings hitherto unpublished, 
throwing light particularly on his early works in America, some of these wholly 
unknown to us. 


I. “DESIGNS 

OF BUILDINGS ERECTED OR PROPOSED TO BE 
BUILT 

IN VIRGINIA, BY 
B. Henry Latrobe Boneval. 

From 1795 to 1799.” 


86 


Ten days after landing, Latrobe wrote in his diary, “idly engaged since my 
arrival . . . designing a staircase for Mr. A’s new house, a house and offices for 


Staircase of Capt. William Pennock’s House, 
Norfolk, 1796. 



Some Architectural Designs of Latrobe / 87 



































































Captain P-. . In the “Explanation of the Vignette in the Titlepage’’ 

of the album before us, he began: “During my residence in Virginia from 1795 to 
1799, the applications to me for designs were very numerous, & my fancy was 
kept employed in building castles in the air, the plans of which are contained in 
this Volume. The only two buildings which were executed from the drawings 
were Capt n Pennocks house at Norfolk, and Colonel Harvies at Richmond. . . 

The album has thirty-four pages of drawings and writing, covering twelve 
distinct projects, all for domestic buildings with the exception of one unidentified 
church. We see that Capt. William Pennock’s house (“Captain P’s”) was the first 
of all Latrobe’s designs in Virginia. He gives an amusing account of its genesis: 

This design was made in consequence of a trifling Wager . . . that I 
could not design a house . . . which should have only 41 feet front; which 
should contain on the Ground floor, 3 Rooms, a principal Staircase, 8c back 
stairs; and, — which was the essential requisite, — the front door of which 
should be in the Center. 

Latrobe won the wager, gave Pennock the ingenious plan at small scale, and 
learning later in Richmond that Pennock was having difficulty in erecting the 
house with local builders, returned to Norfolk to accommodate the design to their 
mistakes. The staircase, of unusual form, he drew in perspective with a skill then 
novel in America. The house stood on Main Street in Norfolk—the Geography 
and Map Division of the Library of Congress places it between Concord and 
Granby Streets—in the heart of the present city, and has long ago vanished. 

One of the more ambitious of the schemes was that for the seat of Colonel 
John Harvie. The main house had a drawing room with a projecting circular 
bay at the center of the garden front, behind a hall with semicircular ends. 
Wings were to contain the kitchen and an office. The external treatment shown 
was prophetic of that of the Wickham-Valentine house in Richmond, erected by 
Latrobe’s pupil Robert Mills a score of years later. Latrobe states that the wings 
were not executed. 

Apparently the house built by Harvie was erected shortly before Latrobe left 
Virginia (December 1, 1799) for it was first taxed in 1800, having meanwhile, 
on July 1, 1799, been conveyed to Robert Gamble. The deed mentions the brick 
mansion house and brick stable (Richmond Land Books, 1799 and 1800, Henrico 
Deed Book V, 609), according to Miss Mary Wingfield Scott, the great authority 


88 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


on Richmond houses, who has also supplied me with tracings of the drawings on 
the insurance declarations of 1802 and 1815 to the Mutual Assurance Society. 
These show that the house is indeed the very one, with the bow projecting at the 
rear, although the facade was considerably garbled in execution. This is evident 
also in the'drawing of the front included in Lancaster’s Historic Virginia Homes 
and Churches. The house, which gave the name to Gamble Hill where it stood, 
and which long ago disappeared, was called “Grey Castle,’’ doubtless from the 
novelty, at that time, of its being plastered externally. 

The other house designs—including one for “Millhill” which I am unable 
to trace, and one on the bluff above Shockoe Creek at Richmond—show a related 
architectural character. Plans are full of spatial variety; frequently there are 
projecting rooms with octagonal or curved bays. There is more than one small 
central Roman dome. Grouped triple windows are not uncommon. The few 
columns used are of Grecian cast. In the designs are one or two small outbuildings 
which are given the form of garden temples with Greek Doric porticoes. Some 
perspective drawings show an informal parklike landscape treatment of the 
grounds. 

Except for Monticello (never seen by Latrobe), which Jefferson was remodel¬ 
ling at the moment in somewhat similar vein, and for which he proposed a simi¬ 
lar park and temples, there was then nothing at all in America like these houses. 
They represent very much the same style, under the general influence of Soane, 
as some of the houses in the English books of the same time, such as John Plaw’s 
Sketches for Country Houses, 1800, or Laing’s Hints for Dwellings, 1800, but 
freely invented without dependence on specific examples. 

II. “DESIGNS 
of a Building 
proposed to be erected at 
RICHMOND in VIRGINIA, 
to contain 

A THEATRE, ASSEMBLY-ROOMS, AND AN 
HOTEL 

by 

B. Henry Latrobe Boneval, Architect & 

Engineer. 

Begun Dec r 2 d 1797. finished Tan y 8 th 
1798.” 


Some Architectural Designs of Latrobe f 89 



90 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


TL.-H T- 



































































Left: Proposed Theatre, Assembly Rooms, and 
Hotel, Richmond, 1797-98. 


This project, mentioned briefly also in Latrobe’s diary under these dates, is 
one of which we know little further. The standard histories of Richmond and 
the historical journals are silent regarding it. 

The building was to stand just north of Broad Street, facing west on Twelfth, 
with the assembly rooms along the north side, the hotel along the south. This 
was the “Academy Square” where stood the modest building of Quesnay’s short¬ 
lived Academy, used as a theatre until it burned in 1803. We may surmise that 
John Harvie, who was a prime mover in the Academy project, was concerned 
also in this new one of Latrobe’s. The theatre was to be an ambitious one, with 
two main tiers of boxes—thirty-one boxes in all—a pit sixty feet in diameter and 
a wide deep stage. Most interesting is the projection of the auditorium in a 
semicircular facade, anticipating in that regard Semper’s scheme for the Dresden 
court theatre of 1838. So far as I recall, nothing of the sort had been proposed so 
early. In George Saunders’s Treatise on Theatres (London: 1790), which illus¬ 
trates the principal examples, there is nothing of the kind, and the whole com¬ 
bination of the plan, extremely ingenious, was entirely Latrobe’s own. His exterior 
treatment, in stucco, was of sober functional character, not unrelated to the style 
of Soane, with arcades blind and open, instead of any academic membering. 

The enterprise was far too grandiose for the means of Richmond and Vir¬ 
ginia at the end of the century, when the new state capital was still a straggling 
town. The short-lived Boston Theatre, built in 1793-94 by Bulfinch was valued 
at £\ 2,500; the Park Theatre in New York, built by Marc Isambard Brunei in 
1793—96 cost $179,000. It was these handsome structures, doubtless, which in¬ 
spired Richmond to an emulation beyond its power. The brick theatre built on 
Academy Square in 1806 and destroyed in the fatal theatre fire of 1811, which 
is commemorated by the Monumental Church on the site, was of comparatively 
slight pretensions. 


III. “DESIGN 

OF A 

CITY HALL 

proposed to he built in New York. 

by B. H LATROBE F.A.P.S. 

Philadelphia 1802.” 

The handsome set of drawings with this inscription on the title page reveals 
to us something hitherto not widely known: that Latrobe submitted plans for 


Some Architectural Designs of Latrobe / 91 


the building which represented the greatest new opportunity offered to designers 
in America in the first years of the new century—plans now first shown to the 
public. 

The basic documents regarding the project have been published most fully 
in I. N. Phelps Stokes, Iconography of Manhattan Island (vol. I, 1915, pp. 462— 
464, plate 75 and vol. V, 1926, pp. 1393-94). Latrobe’s participation, however, 
was wholly unknown to Stokes, as to other writers who have previously discussed 
the City Hall. 

As early as March 24, 1800, the Common Council of the city of New York 
had appointed a committee “to consider the expediency of erecting a New City 
Hall ... as also a proper Place, a Plan of the Building, an Estimate of the ex¬ 
pense 

On February 20, 1802, the following advertisement appeared in the New 
York Daily Advertiser and in the American Citizen and General Advertiser: 

The Corporation of the City of New York having it in contemplation to 
build a new Court House and City Hall, the undersigned, a Committee ap¬ 
pointed for the purpose, hereby offer a premium of 350 dollars for such plan 
to be presented to either of the subscribers, prior to the first day of April 
next, as may afterwards be adopted by the board. The scite on which it is 
to be erected is insulated, covering an area of three hundred by two hundred 
feet. The plan must shew the elevation of the four facades. The interior ar¬ 
rangement of the building must comprize four court rooms, tw r o large and 
two small, six rooms for jurors, eight for public offices, and for the common 
council, and appropriate rooms for the city-watch, the housekeeper in the 
vestibule or wings. Occasional purposes may require other apartments, which 
may also be designated. A calculation of the expense requisite for its con¬ 
struction, must accompany the plan. 

J. B. Prevost Selah Strong 

J. B. Coles Philip Brasher. 

Robt. Lenox 

“Out of twenty-six plans delivered in,” said a writer in the Daily Advertiser, 
October 2, 1802, “five or six are pre-eminently distinguished.” The names of only 
four competitors have hitherto been known to us. Joseph F. Mangin and John 
McComb, Jr., signed the winning design. Besides theirs, a design was “delivered 


92 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 



Project for New York City Hall, 1802. 


Some Architectural Designs of Latrohe / 93 




































by Dr. Smith”; another, according to William Dunlap’s History of the Rise and 
Progress of the Arts of Design, 1834, was presented by Archibald Robertson, the 
miniature painter, who also offered plans for public buildings on other occasions. 

Latrobe’s concern with the matter has but lately become known by an in¬ 
cidental reference to it in a letter regarding another competition, that for designs 
for the College of South Carolina. It was addressed to John Ewing Calhoun, kins¬ 
man of the younger and more famous John C. Calhoun. Preserved among the 
Calhoun papers in the South Caroliniana Library of the University of South 
Carolina, it was published by Mrs. Margaret B. Meriwether in The State, Colum¬ 
bia, January 4, 1943, which Mrs. Meriwether kindly called to my attention. The 
letter is long, but its statement of Latrobe’s principles of participation—or more 
frequently nonparticipation—in public competitions is highly relevant to the New 
York instance. His discussion of prevailing conditions and probabilities, his pre¬ 
scient fear of the outcome, make it worthy of wider publication in the excerpts 
presented here: 

Philadelphia April 17, 1802 

Sir, I am highly flattered by your polite letter of the fourteenth currt. 
and if anything could induce me to enter into such a competition as is pro¬ 
posed by the advertisement of the trustees of the South Carolina college, it 
would be the letter you have written me. But there are reasons—which your 
politeness renders it proper for me to state to you—which have long pre¬ 
vented men who have a reputation to lose, and who do not absolutely de¬ 
pend upon a chance of business for support, from encountering the sort of 
rivalry which a public notice calls forth. The merit of the design of a profes¬ 
sional man of experience and integrity is, that nothing is proposed but what 
is practicable; permanent; economical, with a view to ultimate expenditure 
and in point of taste—capable of encountering the severest criticism. But 
these are merits of which it is not easy for unprofessional men to judge in 
a plan drawing; and on that account the decision is not always according 
to merits . . . 

Having determined never to submit a plan to any public body which 
should not be so digested in its minutest arrangements as to satisfy my own 
mind of its practicability, and eligibility; and which, in case of my death or 
absence, should not be sufficient to guide my successor to its perfect com¬ 
pletion, I find it extremely inconvenient and humiliating to devote a month’s 
time to making a complete set of drawings and calculations and to collecting 


94 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


such information respecting the materials to be had, the contracts to be pro¬ 
cured, and the expense attending them, as would authorize a risk of reputa¬ 
tion, and this only for the chance of being preferred to the amateur, and 
workman who may enter the lists against me. It is the misfortune of our 
country, that in most instances men of natural genius, who have had little 
instruction and less opportunity of improvement are preferred to men, who 
have expended the best part of their lives in endeavoring to acquire that 
knowledge which a good architect and engineer ought to possess. I have in 
all those instances, in which I have taken my chance with others, been thrown 
out by some such genius, and I have an habitual dread of them. They have, 
either as possessing the confidence of building committees, or holding a seat 
in the committee often made me repent that I have cultivated my profession 
in preference to my farm. And it is because I have no means of preventing 
the inroads of these gentlemen upon the steadiness, the consistency, and 
energy of my system of operations unless I were on the spot, that I feel par¬ 
ticularly reluctant to offer a plan for a work to be erected at so great a dis¬ 
tance. 

But should even my plan be adopted, the sum of 350 dollars (which is 
the reward offered by the South Carolina Trustees) is a very inadequate 
reward only for the labor it would cost me, deducting the actual expense of 
my office. For before the fair and decisive drawings can leave the office a 
voluminous map of drawings of the whole detail must be made, first in the 
rough and then in two fair copies, one for myself, the other for my employer. 

In one late instance, however, similar to the present flattering request of 
a gentleman high in the public, as well in my private respect has induced me 
to give a design for the city hall in New York. I have done so under the 
express stipulation, that I shall not be considered as a candidate, if even my 
design shall be preferred, unless I have the sole direction of the work, ap¬ 
pointing my own superintendent, and at the same time rendering myself 
fully responsible for the success of my plans, and for the conduct of the super¬ 
intendent. On these terms I have executed the two great works which have 
been committed to my care here. They have secured to the public a con¬ 
sistency, and uniformity and a promptness of operation, which cannot be 
expected from the measures of any committee; and to myself, the satisfaction 
of perfect success. . . . 

Your obliged faithful hble. Servt., 
B. Henry Latrobe 


Some Architectural Designs of Latrobe / 95 


We learn from this letter the following facts regarding the New York City Hall: 
Latrobe had, before April 17 (and presumably before the advertised date of 
April 1) submitted a set of plans; these had been specially solicited of him by “a 
gentleman high in the public, as well in my private respect.” 

Latrobe’s two successful early undertakings in Philadelphia, the city water 
supply and the Bank of Pennsylvania, had both been completed early in 1801. 
That autumn was devoted to surveying and improving the navigation of the 
Susquehanna. In the spring of 1802 Latrobe was looking for new fields to con¬ 
quer. 

He had previously made three visits to New York. He was there in January 
and again in March of 1799, doubtless in connection with the engines for the 
waterworks built by Nicholas J. Roosevelt at his works in Passaic. He went again 
for a fortnight in June of 1800, when we find entries in his diaries at the Falls 
of Passaic, in New York itself, and at Morrisania, the seat of Gouverneur Morris. 

The name of the respected public figure who had solicited Latrobe’s presenta¬ 
tion of a design for the City Hall we can only surmise, neither Latrobe’s cor¬ 
respondence before 1803 nor his dairy for 1802 having been preserved. Of the 
principal public characters in New York at that time Gouverneur Morris is the 
only one with whom we know Latrobe to have had previous relations. 

The designs which Latrobe sent form a most comprehensive set, comprising 
twenty-six sheets with forty-eight drawings in all. They cover every artistic and 
major structural aspect of the building, including many details at large—it being 
indeed, ‘‘so digested in its minutest arrangements as to satisfy my own mind of 
its practicability, and eligibility.” The accommodations provided conform per¬ 
fectly with those mentioned in the call for designs and their disposition is at 
once clear, ingenious, and convenient. The elements fall into a balanced plan 
grouped around a central rotunda, with the Council Room at the rear, the large 
court rooms to left and right—all within a simple cubical mass dominated by a 
Roman saucer dome. The principal story is raised above a high academic base¬ 
ment, with a monumental flight of steps leading up to a pedimented portico of 
eight columns of the Corinthian order of the Athenian Tower of the Winds. The 
stone wall surfaces are kept plain, the leading motifs being triple windows under 
arches. 

On October 4, 1802, the City Council balloted to select a plan, and that of 
Joseph F. Mangin and John McComb, Jr., having a large majority of votes, was 
accordingly adopted. This accepted design, drawn entirely by the hand of Man- 
gin, was put into execution in 1803 under the conduct of McComb, whose name 


96 / Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to 1800 


alone appeared as architect on the cornerstone, and who proceeded to make the 
working drawings. 

Joseph Mangin, the French author of the scheme, then city surveyor, was a 
man of whose origin and training we know practically nothing. From his draw¬ 
ings we see he was highly competent, although the plan is by no means so well 
digested as Latrobe’s; from the style of the building (an accomplished version of 
the Louis XVI with no breath of more severely classical innovation), we may 
judge he had left Europe about the time of the French Revolution. By contrast 
with this, Latrobe’s design belongs to a later era, well abreast of classical devel¬ 
opments in England at the moment. It was, indeed, too advanced to be accept¬ 
able. 

There can be little doubt Latrobe prophesied rightly that the decision, in 
such cases, would be swayed in favor of men “possessing the confidence of build¬ 
ing committees,” even though in this instance the victors were men of a com¬ 
petence then unusual in America, opponents by no means unworthy of his steel, 
whose building remains as one of the most admirable American monuments of 
the period. 

His disappointment must have been short-lived. Before the end of November 
1802, he was summoned to Washington. On the 29th he dined with President 
Jefferson, who created for him, March 6 of the following year, the post of Sur¬ 
veyor of the Public Buildings of the United States. 


Some Architectural Designs of Latrobe / 97 





























II PRINTS AND DRAWINGS IN THE 
NINETEENTH CENTURY 


An Album of Rembrandt Restrikes 


by Karen F. Beall 


Among the most sought-after prints today are those of Rembrandt van Rijn 
(1606-69). This has been consistently true since his death nearly three centuries 
ago. Technical proficiency, subtlety, and emotional power are among the out¬ 
standing qualities of his work. 

It is no small task to produce prints of high quality from etched plates. In 
the case of Rembrandt, the artist himself pulled the finest impressions, but so 
great were the demands by collectors that further printings had to be made by 
other craftsmen. Rembrandt would have considered this an acceptable practice. 
He himself was a collector of plates and is known to have reworked and reprinted 

them. The best known example is a plate by Hercules Seghers, Tobias and the 
Angel, that Rembrandt reworked into Flight Into Egypt. 

At least eighty out of approximately three hundred plates etched by Rem¬ 
brandt (authorities differ greatly on the actual number of plates done by him) 
survived into the twentieth century. Of these many have been reworked and all 
have been reprinted in recorded editions. There is more than a casual interest, 

then, for both collector and curator in distinguishing originals and restrikes—not 
to mention the problem of copies. 

Early in 1966 a fascinating album of restrikes was purchased through the 
Hubbard Fund for the collections of the Library of Congress. The following 
paragraphs are intended as descriptive instead of definitive, raising rather than 
solving questions of connoisseurship, since scholars have published little on this 
complex subject. 


100 



Samson Threatening His Father-in-Law. Print from restrike album, after the Rembrandt painting. 


An Album of Rembrandt Restrikes / 101 















The album is a small folio, measuring approximately 49.6 X 32 centimeters, 
bound in marbleized paper over boards. It consists of 49 leaves, uniform in neither 
size nor make, bearing impressions from 120 plates. One of these carries three 
images, apparently originally separate but here copied together on one plate. 
The album has no title page, and the only marks of ownership are the blind 
stamp of one “G. Rames, notaire, a Aurillac (Cantal) ” and a stamp in blue ink 
of “Seine colportage,” suggesting that at some time the book was in the riverside 
bookstalls of Paris. 

In trying to pinpoint the date of this particular album, it is essential to trace 
the ownership of the plates. When Arthur M. Hind published his catalog of 
Rembrandt’s etchings in 1923, one plate was known to be in the hands of the 
Six family (descendants of Burgomaster Jan Six) and seventy-nine others in the 
hands of M. Alvin-Beaumont in Paris, who had acquired them from the son of 
Michel Bernard. Bernard in turn had purchased them from the widow of Auguste 
Jean in 1846. The plates had been in Jean’s hands as early as 1810 but before 
that time they had been in the possession of the Basan family, who figure prom¬ 
inently in any discussion of Rembrandt restrikes. Pierre Francois Basan bought 
at least seventy-eight plates from the estate of Claude Henri Watelet in 1786 and 
at least fifty-three from the estate of Pieter de Haan around 1767. Watelet had 
acquired his group about 1760 in Holland. 1 

Basan published his first Recueil de quatrevingt-cing estampes originales . .. 
gravees par Rembrandt . .. et trente-cinq autres .. .in folio de cent-vingt pieces 
after 1786. Dmitrii Rovinskii places it in 1785, but this seems impossible in light 
of the date of the Watelet sale. This and a later Recueil are as imperfectly de¬ 
scribed as they are rare, the only two known volumes being at the Hermitage 
Museum, where they were deposited by Rovinskii. Hind tells us that the fifty- 
three plates originally in the de Haan collection are reprinted in this folio. Two 
plates by J. J. de Claussin dated 1801 and 1807, not included in the first Recueil, 
appear in the second Recueil and also in the Library’s album. Therefore, the al¬ 
bum could not have been printed while the senior Basan, who died in 1797, was 
alive. 

In 1906 a further edition was published to celebrate Rembrandt’s tercente¬ 
nary. Although it is believed that numerous impressions and Recueils were pro¬ 
duced throughout the period 1786-1906, no information pertaining to them can 
be located in published sources. In all likelihood, the albums have been broken 
up and the individual items sold to collectors. 

Hind lists by number the eighty plates reproduced in the 1906 edition, all 


102 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 



Page 1 of restrike album showing a bearded 
man (upper left) and three self-portraits of 
Rembrandt. 


An Album of Rembrandt Restrikes / 103 





of which appear in the Library’s album. A concordance following this article 
correlates information pertaining to the album with the entries in Rembrandt’s 
Etchings, True and False, compiled by George Biorklund with the assistance of 
Osbert H. Barnard (Stockholm: 1955), and with the Hind catalog numbers. 

Many, if not most, of the Rembrandt plates have been reworked, in some 
instances by artists whose identity is known. Some plates seem to be the original 
designs of other artists; some arc copies after Rembrandt; some are eighteenth- 
century copies after other seventeenth-century Dutch artists; a few remain uniden¬ 
tified. The most helpful single source of information has been Biorklund and 
Barnard; in this and in A Descriptive Catalogue of the Etched Work of Rem¬ 
brandt, by Charles H. Middleton-Wake (London, 1878), are described the great¬ 
est number of the works included in the Library’s album. 

A curious print is an unfinished landscape attributed by Biorklund to Pieter 
de With and by the Mariette sales catalog to Basan. Middleton-Wake lists two 
copies, one by Basan and one by Francis Vivares. (M. Mariette also had a vast 
collection which included some plates, three of which—not by Rembrandt—are 
represented in the album.) The impression in the album bears the inscription 
“dans aucun catalogue, oeuvre de Mariette.” This leads one to reject Biorklund 
in this instance and to accept Middleton-Wake, who describes the Vivares plate 
as carrying this inscription. 

One print, The Pancake Woman (BB 35-1), may help to date the Library’s 
album. Hind lists six states of this plate and adds the note: “Modern, reworked 
(probably starting before [state] IV) : Basan-Bernard.” 2 The fourth state is the 
one included in the Library of Congress copy of Basan’s Dictionnaire des Graveurs 
(Paris: 1789) and is inscribed “No. 122,” but other 1789 copies read “Tome II, 
pag. 122.” On the plate in the 1809 Dictionnaire the inscription has been erased 
and shading added across the top. A trace of the second 1789 inscription can be 
discerned on the print in the Library of Congress album, but the shading does 
not appear. Can it be assumed therefore that it must fall between 1789 and 1809? 
As we have already determined the 1807 date of the de Claussin plate, might this 
album then have been issued between 1807 and 1809? And what was its nature 
and purpose? Its appearance does not indicate an actual published volume but 
rather a record made for the owner of the plates. If the tentative dating should 
prove correct, this would place it in the hands of H. L. Basan shortly before the 
plates were sold to Jean. It is equally possible that the impressions were taken at 
different times and bound at a later date for safekeeping. The quality of the 


104 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 



The Pancake Woman from Hasan’s Dictionnaire des Graveurs (1789) and from the restrike album, 
the second print bearing a trace of the inscription. 


An Album of Rembrandt Restrikes / 105 














De Claussiti’s Rembrandt, and Rembrandt’s Jan Lutma, both from the restrike album. 


106 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 








impressions varies as many of the plates have been obviously reworked; other 
seem quite worn and have been less conspicuously altered. 

It is hoped that others who know of similar albums or have further informa¬ 
tion relating to Rembrandt’s restrikes will add to the meager published informa¬ 
tion so that in time a more thorough investigation may be made. In the meantime 
this album will serve the scholar as useful comparative material. 


NOTES h Arthur M. Hind, A Catalogue of Rembrandt’s Etchings (London [1923]), pp. 22, 23; 

and Dmitri! Rovinskil, L’Oeuvre grave de Rembrandt (Saint-Petersbourg:: 1890), no. 17, col. 9. 

2. Hind, p. 79. 


CONCORDANCE 

Library of Congress Album 









Artist 

B-B 

H 

MB 

Notes 

Key: 

B-B—Biorklund and Barnard 

No. 

Subject 













H-Hind 

1 

Bearded old man in a 

Rembrandt . . . 

.. 35-3 

130 

MB 


MB—Modern Basan impression 


fur cap. 






R—Reject 

1 

Rembrandt and his wife 

Rembrandt ... 

. . 36-A 

144 

MB 




Saskia. 







1 

Rembrandt in velvet cap 

Rembrandt . . . 

.. 38-8 

156 

MB 




and plume. 







1 

Rembrandt in a cap and 

Rembrandt . .. 

.. 33-G 

108 

MB 

Reworked. 



scarf, dark face. 







An Album of Rembrandt Restrikes / 107 









Library of Congress Album 


No. Subject 

2 Jakob Thomasz Haringh. 

2 Man in a high cap . 

2 Rembrandt’s mother in 
widow’s dress, black 
gloves. 

2 [Man with plumed hat] . 

3 Joseph telling his dreams. 
3 Abraham caressing Isaac. 

3 Three oriental figures 
(sometimes called 
Jacob and Laban) . 

3 The hour of death . 

4 Adam and Eve . 

4 David in prayer . 

4 The strolling musicians . 

5 Peasant family on the 

tramp. 


108 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


Artist 


B-B 


H MB 


Notes 


Rembrandt . .. 

.. 55-E 

288 

Rembrandt ... 

30-F 

22 

Pupil/imitator 

.. R-71 

91 


Unknown 


Rembrandt . 

38-E 

160 

Rembrandt . 

37-2 

148 

Rembrandt . 

41-F 

183 

Basan workshop, 
possibly James 
Hazard. 

R-7 

310 

Basan . 

38-D 

159 

Rembrandt . 

52-C 

258 

Rembrandt . 

35-8 

142 

Rembrandt . 

52-3 

259 


MB After plate reduced 
and some 
reworking. 

MB After plate reduced. 
MB 


. Inscribed on plate: 

Rembrandt f 1639. 

MB 

MB Basan printed from 

original plate. Basan 
copy also exists. 

MB Original plate used in 
1868 "Etchers and 
Etchings.” 

. After Ferdinand Bol. 

Inscription: No. . . . 
du catalogue. 

. Inscription: No. 29 du 

catalo (Middleton 
206). 

MB Corroding of plate. 

MB Reworked. 

MB 




















Library of Congress Album. 


Artist 


No* Subject 


5 Titus 


5 The Spanish gypsy 
(Preciosa). 

5 Christ and the woman of 

Samaria, among the 
ruins. 

6 Jews in the synagogue .. 

6 Bearded old man in a cap 

6 Woman bathing her feet 
at a brook. 

6 Rembrandt etching . 


7 ViiTgin and Child with 
the snake. 

7 Circumcision in the stable 

7 Joseph and Potiphar’s 
wife. 

7 The adoration of the 
shepherds with the 
lamp. 


Basan workshop . 

Basan (?) . 

Rembrandt . 

Rembrandt . 

Bol . 

Rembrandt . 

Pupil/imitator .. 

Rembrandt . 

Rembrandt . 

Rembrandt . 

Rembrandt . 


8 


The pancake woman .... Rembrandt 


B-B 


H MB 


Notes 


56-1 

261 


Inscription: Le fils de 
Rembrandt. 

42-2 

184 


Inscription: No. 116 
du cat. 

34-L 

122 

MB 

Reworked. 

48-D 

234 

MB 

Somewhat reworked. 

R-48 

350 

MB 


58-D 

298 

MB 

Reworked. 

R-81 

300A 


Inscription: Rem¬ 
brandt gravant une 
planche, oeuvre de 
M. Mariette. 

54-C 

275 

MB 


54-B 

274 

MB 


34-G 

118 

MB 

Reworked. 

54-1 

273 

MB 


35-1 

141 

MB 

Inscription: Tome II, 


pag. 122 (barely 
visible). 


Album of Rembrandt Restrikes / 109 




















Library of Congress Album 


Artist 


B-B 


H MB 


Notes 


No. Subject 


8 The Persian . 

8 The stoning of St. 

Stephen. 

8 St. Jerome kneeling in 

prayer. 

9 Christ returning from the 

temple with his parents. 


9 The bathers . 

9 Landscape with a cow 

drinking. 

10 Man in a cloak and a fur 

cap leaning against a 
bank. 

10 Beggar with a wooden leg. 

10 Rembrandt with a flat 
cap and embroidered 
dress. 

10 [The blind Tobias with 

angel and dog.] 

11 Man drawing from a cast 

11 Christ disputing with the 

doctors (small plate). 


Rembrandt . . . 

.. 32-A 

93 

Rembrandt .... 

.. 3 5-A 

125 

Rembrandt .... 

. 35-H 

140 

Baron Vivant 

Denon. 

54-F 

278 

Rembrandt . ... 

.. 51-B 

250 

Rembrandt .... 

. 50-1 

240 

Rembrandt . .. 

.. 30-6 

14 

Rembrandt . .. 

.. 30-4 

12 

Rembrandt ... 

. . 38-1 

157 


Unknown 


Rembrandt ... 

... 41-4 

191 

Rembrandt . . 

... 30-D 

20 


MB 

MB Reworked. 

MB 

. After Rembrandt. 

Denon used in 
Recueil de Basan. 
Inscription: No. 54. 

MB 

MB 

MB Reworked (?) 

MB 

MB 

. Inscription on plate: 

Rembrandt f 1633. 

MB Much reworked. 

MB After plate reduced. 


110 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 



















Library of Congress Album 


Artist 


No. Subject 


11 Rembrandt’s mother with 
hands on chest. 


11 Beggarman and woman 
conversing. 

11 The tribute money .... 

11 [Bearded man with arms 

folded, reading] 

12 The raising of Lazarus 

(small plate). 

12 The flight into Egypt 
(night piece). 

12 Beheading of John the 

Baptist. 

13 The flight into Egypt: 

Crossing a brook. 

13 Christ seated, disputing 
with the doctors. 

13 The golf player . 

13 Angel departing from 

Tobit’s family. 

14 Beggar woman leaning 

on a stick. 

14 Peasant in a high cap, 
leaning on a stick. 


Rembrandt 

Rembrandt 

Rembrandt 

Unknown 

Rembrandt 

Rembrandt 

Rembrandt 

Rembrandt 

Rembrandt 

Rembrandt 

Rembrandt 

Rembrandt 

Rembrandt 


B-B 


H MB 


Notes 


31-G 

50 

MB 

Watelet inscription 
erased, much re¬ 
worked. 

30-A 

7 

MB 


35-2 

124 

MB 

Reworked. 

42-B 

198 

MB 


51-E 

253 

MB 

Reworked and cor¬ 
roded. 

40-B 

171 

MB 


54-D 

276 

MB 


54-E 

277 

MB 


54-A 

272 

MB 

Slightly reworked (?) 

41-G 

185 

MB 


46-A 

219 

MB 


39-B 

164 

MB 



An Album of Rembrandt Restrikes / 111 




















Library of Congress Album 


Artist 


B-B 


H MB 


Notes 


No. Subject 


14 

Rest on the flight into 
Egypt (night piece). 

Rembrandt . . . 

. . 44-2 

208 

MB 

Reworked. 

14 

The schoolmaster . 

Rembrandt . . . 

. . 41-N 

192 

MB 

Reworked. 

14 

The crucifixion . 

Rembrandt . . . 

.. 35-1 

123 

MB 


14 

The flight into Egypt 
(small plate). 

Watelet . 

... 33-D 

105 


Reverse copy (in 
Recueil de Basan) . 

15 

Rembrandt in a fur cap 
(bust) . 

Watelet (?) .. 

.. 30-L 

29 


Reverse copy. Poor 
printing. Date on 
plate, 1758. 

15 

[Young man wearing a 
hat]. 

Watelet . 




Signed and dated in 
reverse on plate. 

15 

[Boy with upturned face] 

Unknown. 





15 

The goldsmith . 

Rembrandt . . . 

.. 55-B 

285 

MB 


15 

Old beggarwoman with a 
gourd. 

Rembrandt . . . 

. . 30-16 

80 

MB 

Reworked. 

15 

The monk in the 
cornfield. 

Rembrandt . . . 

.. 46-2 

224 



16 

The cardplayer . 

Rembrandt . . . 

. . 41-M 

190 

MB 

Reworked. 

16 

The painter . 

Watelet . 

. . R-62 

355 


After Willem Drost. 
Inscription: Portrait 
de W. Drost . . . M. 
Mariette. . . . 

16 

The star of the Kings 
(night piece) . 

Rembrandt . . . 

.. 51-1 

254 

MB 

Much reworked. 


112 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


























Library of Congress Album 


Artist 


No. Subject 


16 Nude men seated on the 

ground. 

17 Rembrandt drawing at a 

window. 

17 Lieven van Coppenol 
(large plate). 


18 Rembrandt in a soft hat 
and an embroidered 
cloak. 


18 Jan Lutma, goldsmith .. 

19 Beggars receiving alms at 

a door. 

19 Christ and the woman of 

Samaria (arched). 

20 Abraham and Isaac. 


20 Christ driving the money¬ 

changers away. 

21 Bust of a bearded old 

man. 


Rembrandt .. 

Rembrandt .. 

Rembrandt .. 

de Claussin .. 

Rembrandt .. 
Rembrandt .. 

Rembrandt .. 

Unknown ... 

Rembrandt .. 

Constantino 
Cumano (?). 


B-B 


H MB 


Notes 


46-C 221 MB 

48-A 229 MB 

58-F 300 MB 


31-K 

54 


56-C 

290 

MB 

48-C 

233 

MB 

57-B 

294 

MB 

45-D 

214 

MB 


35-B 126 MB 

31-E? 47? .... 


Worn plate reworked. 

After plate reduced to 
head only. Copy of 
original full size in 
Recueil. Worn and 
reworked. 

Reverse of original by 
Rembrandt. Signed 
and dated 1801 on 
plate. 

Reworked. 

Reworked. 


(MB copy same 
direction) Reverse 
possibly by Gerard 
Dou or Francesco 
Novelli. 


Reverse copy possibly 
by Cumano. 


An Album of Rembrandt Restrikes / 113 

















Library of Congress Album 

- Artist B-B H MB Notes 

No. Subject 


21 

The adoration of the 
shepherds (night 
piece). 

Rembrandt . 

52-1 

25 

MB 

Much reworked. 

22 

Abraham and Isaac .... 

Rembrandt . 

45-D 

214 

MB 


22 

Peter and John at the 
gate of the temple. 

Rembrandt . 

59-A 

301 

MB 

Reworked. 

23 

Negress lying down . 

Rembrandt . 

58-E 

299 

MB 

Corroded and re¬ 
worked. 

23 

Ledekant . 

Basan workshop?. 

46-D 

223 


Inscription: No. 178. 
Copy possibly by 
Denon 

24 

A. Young man in a cap . 

Unknown. 

R-59 

65 


Copy in Recueil. 


B. Rembrandt with a 

broad nose. 

Unknown. 




Inscription: No. 5. 
Copy from Basan’s 
workshop in Recueil 


C. Cupid resting . 

Unknown. 

R-10 

313 


Reverse copy of Rem¬ 
brandt painting of 
1634. Copy in 
Recueil. 

24 

Nude standing, another 
seated. 

Rembrandt . 

46-1 

222 

MB 


25 

[Night piece with two 
figures]. 

Unknown . 





25 

St. Jerome in a dark 
chamber. 

Rembrandt . 

42-E 

201 

MB 

Much reworked. 

26 

Jan Asselyn (“Crabbetje”), 
painter. 

Rembrandt . 

47-1 

227 

MB 

Much reworked. 


114 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 






















Library of Congress Album 

Artist 

B-B 

H 

MB 

Notes 

No. 

Subject 

26 

Arnold Tholinx, inspector 

Basan . 

.. 56-2 

289 



27 

Return of the prodigal 
son. 

Rembrandt ... 

.. 36-D 

147 

MB 


27 

Head of Saskia and others 

Rembrandt . .. 

.. 36-B 

145 

MB 


27 

Heads of three women, 
one asleep. 

Rembrandt . . . 

.. 37-D 

152 

MB 


28 

Faust . 

Rembrandt . .. 

.. 52-4 

260 

MB 


29 

Christ at Emmaus . 

Rembrandt . .. 

.. 54-H 

269 

MB 

Copy of final state 
with triptych re¬ 
moved. 

30 

Lieven van Coppenol 
(small plate). 

Basan (?) . 

.. 58-1 

269 


Monogram of Basan 
on plate and in¬ 
scription: Copenol, 
No. 262 du 
catalogue. 

31 

The descent from the 
cross: By torchlight. 

Rembrandt ... 

.. 54-G 

280 

MB 

Corroded and re¬ 
worked. 

32 

Jan Uytenbogaert, Arme¬ 
nian preacher. 

Rembrandt . . . 

.. 35-D 

128 

MB 

Much reworked. 

33 

Abraham Francen, art 
dealer. 

Rembrandt . .. 

.. 57-2 

291 

MB 

From last state, much 
reworked. 

34 

Baptism of the eunuch .. 

Rembrandt . . . 

.. 41-E 

182 

MB 


35 

Clement de Tonghe . 

Rembrandt . . . 

.. 51-C 

251 

MB 

Reworked. 


An Album of Rembrandt Restrikes / 115 






















Library of Congress Album 


No. Subject 


36 [Hunter seated before a 

table in a farmyard]. 

37 The artist drawing from 

a model. 

38 Presentation in the 

temple (oblong) . 

39 Jan Six . 


40 The angel appearing to 

the shepherds. 

41 Samson threatening his 

father-in-law. 


42 The raising of Lazarus 

(large plate). 

43 Landscape with a coach. 


43 Landscape with a coach. 


116 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


Artist 


B-B H MB 


Notes 


Unknown 


Rembrandt . 39-2 231 

Rembrandt . 40-1 162 

Basan (?) . 47-B 228 


Rembrandt . 34-1 120 

Unknown . 


Rembrandt . 32^1 96 

Philip de R-23 325 

Koninck. 

Watelet (?) .... R-23 325 


MB 


MB Worn; reworked (?). 

. Inscription: F. Six 

Bourguemestre de 
Hollande. Believed 
to be Basan copy 
rather than late 
printing from 
original plate, in¬ 
scribed Jan Six, AE 
29. Reversal of 
numbers not cor¬ 
rected. 

MB Reworked. 


After Rembrandt 
painting in the 
Staatliche Museen, 
Berlin. 

Probably after re¬ 
working for Recueil. 

Middleton R. 1. In¬ 
scription: 201 du 
catalogue. 

Reverse. Copy by 
Watelet in Basan 
Recueil. 

















Library of Congress Album 


No. Subject 


Artist B-B H MB 


Notes 


43 Unfinished landscape ... Vivares (?) . R-43 345 


43 House with three 
chimneys. 


Vivares . R-39 341 


44 Haybarn and a flock of Unknown. 52-A 241 

sheep. 


44 Landscape with canal Basan workshop . R-36 338 

and palisade. 


44 The wooden bridge. Basan workshop . R-35 337 


45 [Three figures by a table] de Claussin. 

45 Six’s bridge . de Claussin . 45-A 209 


46 [Landscape, buildings at Unknown 
left]. 


Middleton R. 12. B-B 
attributes to Pieter 
de With; copied by 
Basan workshop for 
Recueil. Inscription: 
Dans aucun 
catalogue, oeuvre de 
M. Mariette. 

Middleton R. 25. In¬ 
scription: No. 88 du 
suppl. du cat. B-B 
attributes to P. de 
With; copy by 
Basan shop. 

Reverse copy but not 
found listed after 
Rembrandt. 

Copy after Pieter de 
With by Basan’s 
shop. Inscription: 
No. 84 du supple¬ 
ment du catalogue. 

Inscription: No. 83 du 
supplement du cat. 
In Recueil. 

Signed and dated 1807 
on the plate. 

Copy by de Claussin 
Basan’s Recueil. 

Plate in poor condi¬ 
tion. 


An Album of Rembrandt Restrikes / 117 




















Library of Congress Album 


Artist 


B-B H MB 


Notes 


No. Subject 


46 

[Landscape with man 
fishing]. 

Unknown . . . 





46 

[Landscape with two 
cows, town in back¬ 
ground]. 

Watelet . 




Signed on plate which 
is corroded. 

47 

Lieven van Coppenol 
(large plate) . 

Basan(?) . 

. . 58-F 

300 

MB 

Copies by both Basan 
and Denon. 

48 

The death of the Virgin. 

Rembrandt . . . 

. . 39-A 

161 

MB 

Reworked. 

49 

Descent from the cross 
(second plate). 

Rembrandt . . . 

.. 33-C 

103 

MB 

Possibly original plate, 
much reworked; 


18th-century in¬ 
scription burnished 
off bottom margin 
but still barely 
visible; 19th- or 
early 20th-century 
printer’s mark 
lower right. 


118 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 










The Capitol of Jefferson and Latrobe 


by Virginia Daiker 


“In presenting to you this perspective of the Capitol, which I herewith leave 
at the President’s House, I have no object but to gratify my desire, as an individ¬ 
ual citizen to give you a testimony of the truest respect and attachment.” 1 


The handsome watercolor rendering illustrated here is a gift to the Library of 
Congress from William Morrow Roosevelt of Whitemarsh, Pennsylvania. His 
grandfather Nicholas Latrobe Roosevelt found this national treasure in an old 
printshop in New York some years ago and acquired it for the family. It now 
becomes part of the Latrobe collection of more than two-hundred architectural 
drawings in the Prints and Photographs Division. 

When Thomas Jefferson was inaugurated as President in 1801, he was at 
last in a position to press the Congress for adequate funds for the Capitol and to 
push for architectural planning for the actual construction of the rest of the build¬ 
ing. As the author of the specifications for the Capitol competition of July 1792, 
which William Thornton won in April 1793, Jefferson envisioned a noble struc¬ 
ture that through its dignity and architectural beauty would represent the ideals 
of the new republic. 

It was not until Jefferson had been in office for two years, however—on 
March 3, 1803—that any sizable appropriation was made. Within three days, Jef¬ 
ferson wrote to Benjamin Henry Latrobe: “Congress has appropriated a sum of 
$50,000, to be applied to the public buildings under my direction. . . . The former 


119 



Presentation drawing of the U.S. Capitol, inscribed: “To Thomas Jefferson, Pres. U.S. BH. Latrobe 1806.” 


120 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


















post of surveyor of the public buildings, which Mr. Hoban held . . . will be re¬ 
vived. If you choose to accept it, you will be appointed to it. ...” 2 

Jefferson had probably met Latrobe as early as March 1798 and knew the 
quality of his work, most recently from the plans for a naval arsenal and drydocks 
in the Federal City, prepared in November and December 1802 by ‘‘a person of 
skill and experience,” to use Jefferson’s own words. (These drawings are in the 
Prints and Photographs Division.) Latrobe was in fact the only well-trained pro¬ 
fessional architect in the country. The two men had much in common. Both were 
trained in the classics and had a knowledge of architecture, an interest in educa¬ 
tion, and a strong ambition to build a capitol that would be a national monu¬ 
ment and a great artistic achievement. 

During their six years of official collaboration, the amateur architect and the 
professional worked together, but they also had their differences of opinion. 
There were vigorous arguments and disagreements, mainly over questions of 
style, which are well recorded in their voluminous correspondence. For the first 
four years Latrobe could not afford to move his family from Philadelphia to live 
in Washington on his small salary of $1,700, and Jefferson went to Monticello 
each year for the spring planting. Hence there were many letters back and forth 
from their various places of residence. 

Latrobe faced difficult practical problems with the Capitol building—the lack 
of adequate working drawings, discrepancies between existing drawings and what 
had actually been built, faulty construction that had to be torn down and rebuilt, 
the uncertainty and delay of the yearly congressional appropriations, the tremen¬ 
dous difficulties of getting, and keeping, trained and dependable workmen, and 
the problem of securing adequate supplies of building materials at the time they 
were needed. Jefferson’s determination to follow as closely as possible the prize¬ 
winning Thornton design that George Washington had so admired, and his stub¬ 
born resistance to many of the changes suggested by his surveyor of public build¬ 
ings, were problems, of another dimension. Jefferson wrote later, ‘‘Another 
principle of conduct with me was to admit no innovations on the established 
plans, but on the strongest grounds.” 3 

The major source of disagreement concerned the manner of covering and 
lighting the House of Representatives chamber in the south wing. Details such 
as this had not been resolved in the Thornton designs. Jefferson wanted a ceiling 
similar to the one he had seen in Paris in the Halle aux Bles, which he considered 
“the most superb thing on earth.” It was constructed of great circular ribs—made 
up of small fir beams pegged together—which curved out and down from the 


The Capitol of Jefferson and Latrobe / 121 


t mj 


W + - 









•j i J 'J 'J ‘J Yr’ Jl " 


'jK. J yJ 'JzsJ J ‘J "Jw 



"P/an o/ the principal Dry Dock or Naval Arsenal, to contain Frigates in three tier of four ships each 
Watercolor drawing by B.H. Latrobe, December 4, 1802. 


122 j Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 
























Benjamin Henry Latrobe. From Glenn Brown, 
History of the United States Capitol, vol. 1 
( Washington: U.S. Government Printing 
Office, 1900 ). 


center of the dome, the spaces in between being glazed, giving the effect of a 
radiating sunburst. Latrobe, on the other hand, argued for a “Lanthorn,” or 
cupola, with vertical frames of glass, for he was considering practicality and com¬ 
fort as well as beauty. The degree and quality of light and its appropriateness 
for the legislative chamber, heat and moisture condensation inside, accumulation 
of dirt and snow on the skylights, and breakage and consequent leaks constituted 
major problems in Jefferson’s proposed ceiling. 

The president appeared to yield, writing on September 8, 1805, “I cannot 
express to you the regret I feel on the subject of renouncing the Halle au bled 
lights of the Capitol dome. That single circumstance was to constitute the dis¬ 
tinguishing merit of the room, and would solely have made it the handsomest 
room in the world without a single exception. . . . The only objection having 
any weight with me is the danger of leaking. ... I leave therefore the decision on 
the abandonment of the idea entirely to yourself, and will acquiesce in that.” 4 
Five days later Latrobe answered, ‘‘I cannot possibly venture to decide the 
point of the Halle aux Bles lights of myself. . . .” But, on the very same day 
he wrote to John Lenthall, his clerk of the works: 

The President very reluctantly gives up the skylights to my decision, 
which is placing me in a most unpleasant situation. I shall therefore let them 
lie over till it is absolutely necessary to decide, and then my conscience and 
my common sense I fear will reject them in spite of my desire to do as he 
wishes. . . . 5 

On October 23 he wrote: ‘‘I am very unfortunate to be obliged to oppose the 
man I most respect, and ought to obey, in so many points. I have, however, a 
queer scheme of lighting the House of Representatives which will please him.” 6 
The new scheme proposed the substitution of five rectangular panel lights— 
to be spaced in each of the interstices between the great structural ribs of white 
pine—for each long glass skylight area. By this method the number of joints 
would be greatly reduced, and each panel of glass could be framed in wood on 
three sides with the fourth left free for drainage. Apparently this satisfied Jeffer¬ 
son, who wrote that “it would be beautiful . . . and a more mild mode of light¬ 
ing, because it would be an original and unique.” 7 

A drawing of this new arrangement, prepared for Lenthall’s use, is dated 
November 28, 1805. Careful scrutiny shows, in addition to the panel lights, an 
octagonal frame on the center of the roof, with instructions that say it “must be 


The Capitol of Jefferson and Latrobe / 123 



made of Scantling sufficient to carry a Lanthorn if necessary.” 

By the summer of 1806 the south wing construction was ready for the dome 
ribbing, but the plate glass that had been ordered from Hamburg, Germany, the 
previous December had not arrived. Writing to Jefferson on August 27, Latrobe 
again gave notice that he was directing Lenthall to construct a “temporary” 
lantern that would be quickly placed over the center of the hall if the glass did 
not arrive before the onset of winter. On September 15 Lenthall reported that 
the framing for the cupola was ready. But it was not until October that Jefferson 
learned that the carpentry work for the skylights had not been touched and that 
“temporary” lantern was a misnomer. His displeasure is evident in a letter to 
Lenthall dated October 21: “The skylights in the dome of the House of Repre¬ 
sentatives’ Chamber were a part of the plan as settled and communicated to Mr. 
Latrobe . . . they must be immediately prepared. ...” 8 

Latrobe apologized, explaining that he had not wished to proceed with ex¬ 
pensive construction until the glass had arrived. But he still persisted in his argu¬ 
ments and objections: “I am convinced by the evidence of my senses in inummer- 
able cases, by all my professional experience for nearly 20 years, and by all my 
reasonings, that the panel lights must inevitably be destroyed after being 
made . . .” (October 29, 1806) . 9 

The president’s orders were obeyed, nevertheless, and at least half the roof 
had received its frames by mid-November. It was probably about this time that 
Latrobe completed for Jefferson the impressive presentation drawing of the Cap¬ 
itol, showing the building finished as he envisioned it, with the central domed 
rotunda, a splendid front portico, and cupolas over both the Senate and House 
wings. One can speculate about Latrobe’s purpose in preparing the drawing. Was 
it a peace offering or subtle propaganda? He had been planning the drawing for 
several months, for he had written to Lenthall from Philadelphia on September 
1, 1806, “I must beg Mr. [Robert] Mills to make a plan of the whole front of the 
Capitol & one side preparatory to my perspective view.” 10 

The letter transmitting the drawing to President Jefferson, quoted at the 
beginning of this article, is dated 1806, on the 17th, but the month—presumably 
November—is omitted. Latrobe continues, “If I had had a good view of Monti- 
cello I would rather have employed my pencil upon that. . . . But as I had no 
other choice and am not satisfied with Mr. Mill’s view of your house I have been 
obliged to chose a subject in which the President of the United States may per¬ 
haps have more interest than the individual—I beg therefore that you will please 
to accept the drawing as a contribution to the drawings of your own house. I 


124 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


Latrobe’s plan for the framing of the roof of 
the “Hall of Representatives’’ Watercolor 
drawing, November 28, 1805. 



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126 Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 














































Left: The North Senate wing of the Capitol 
in 1880. Watercolor drawing by William 
Russell Birch. 


shall try to make a companion to it, from Mr. Mills drawing of Monticello dur¬ 
ing the winter. The frame will follow in a few days. . . 11 

Could this be the drawing referred to in Jefferson’s letter to Latrobe of April 
22, 1807? “It is with real pain I oppose myself to your passion for the lanthern, 
and that in a matter of taste, I differ from a professor in his own art. . . . You 
know my reverence for the Graecian 8c Roman style of architecture. I do not 
recollect ever to have seen in their buildings a single instance of a lanthern, 
cupola, or belfry. . . . one of the degeneracies of modern architecture. I confess 
they are most offensive to my eye, and a particular observation has strengthened 
my disgust at them. In the project for the central part of the Capitol which you 
were so kind as to give me, there is something of this kind on the crown of the 
dome. The drawing was exhibited for the view of the members, in the president’s 
house, and the disapprobation of that feature in the drawing was very general.” 12 
Latrobe replied on May 21: “In respect to the panel lights, I am acting 
diametrically contrary to my judgment. ... In respect to the general subject of 
cupolas, I do not think that they are always, nor even often, ornamental. ... I 
cannot admit that because the Greeks and Romans did not place elevated cupolas 
upon their temples, they may not when necessary be rendered also beautiful. . . . 
It is not the ornament, it is the use I want.” 13 

Work progressed during the summer, and Latrobe reported to the president 
on August 13: “My whole time, excepting a few hours now and then devoted to 
the President’s House, is occupied with drawing and directions for the north 
wing, in the arrangements for which I am pursuing the eventual plan approved 
and presented by you to Congress at the last session, and in pushing on the work 
of the south wing.” 14 

Latrobe also prepared some designs for a cupola for the north wing, proposed 
to be carried up in 1807, which he felt was necessary to take care of the chimneys. 
Jefferson’s reply was prompt: “I like well all your ideas except that of introduc¬ 
ing a cupola to cover the chimnies. ... It is evident that a cupola on the one 
wing necessarily calls for a corresponding one on the other. I need not here re¬ 
peat the objections to that.” 15 

Glass was at last obtained—from England—and the final glazing and puttying 
was completed in October 1807 in time for the opening session of Congress, sans 
cupola. 

Latrobe’s ideas prevailed in the end, however, for after the War of 1812 he 
was hired to rebuild the Capitol and, as Jefferson was no longer president, was 
able to construct his cupolas on both wings. They may be clearly seen in the 


The Capitol of Jefferson and Latrobe / 127 





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128 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 










































































































Left: “Designs for the roof of the North wing 
of the Capitol,” including a “Proposition for 
the Cupola.” Watercolor drawing by B. H. 

Latrobe, August 1807. 


NOTES 


Plumbe daguerreotype of ca. 1846. 

Despite all difficulties and disagreements, Latrobe and Jefferson remained 
friends, with a high regard for each other. On May 11, 1805, Latrobe wrote to 
Lenthall that Jefferson “is one of the best hearted men that ever came out of the 
hand of Nature and has one of the best heads also.... As a man, I never knew his 
superior in candor, kindness, and universal information; as a political character 
he has not his equal anywhere in patriotism, right intentions, and uniform per¬ 
severance in the system he has conceived to be the most beneficial for his coun¬ 
try.” 16 

In his report to the president on August 13, 1807, Latrobe stated: “Your ad¬ 
ministration, sir, in respect of public works, has hitherto claims of gratitude and 
respect from the public and from posterity. It is not flattery to say that you have 
planted the arts in your country. The works already erected in this city are the 
monuments of your judgment and of your zeal and of your taste.” 17 

Jefferson likewise complimented Latrobe, writing to him on April 14, 1811, 
“Besides constant commendations of your taste in architecture, and science in 
execution, I declared on many and all occasions that I considered you the only 
person in the United States who could have executed the Representative cham¬ 
ber . . . ,” 18 and again on July 12, 1812, “. . . the Representatives’ Chamber will 
remain a durable monument of your talents as an architect. ... I shall live in 
the hope that the day will come when an opportunity will be given you of finish¬ 
ing the middle building in a style worthy of the two w r ings, and worthy of the 
first temple dedicated to the sovereignty of the people, embellishing with Athe¬ 
nian taste the course of a nation looking far beyond the range of Athenian des¬ 
tinies.” 19 


1. Latrobe to Jefferson, [November] 17, 1806. Latrobe Papers, Manuscript Division. 

2. Jefferson to Latrobe, March 6, 1803, in Glenn Brown, History of the United States 
Capitol, 2 vols. (Washington: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1900-1903) , 1:32. 

3. Jefferson to Latrobe, April 14, 1811, in Thomas Jefferson and the National Capital, 
Containing Notes and Correspondence . . ., 1783-1813, ed. Saul K. Padover (Washington: U.S. 
Government Printing Office, 1946) , p. 469. 


The Capitol of Jefferson and Latrobe / 129 


4. Jefferson to Latrobe, September 8, 1805, District of Columbia Letters and Papers on 
the Site and Buildings for the Federal City, Manuscript Division. 

5. Latrobe to Jefferson, and to Lenthall. September 13, 1805, Latrobe Papers, Manuscript 
Division. 

6. Latrobe to Lenthall, October 23, 1805, Latrobe Papers. 

7. Jefferson to Latrobe, October 31, 1806, District of Columbia Papers. 

8. Jefferson to Lenthall, October 21, 1806, Latrobe Papers. 

9. Latrobe to Jefferson, October 29, 1806, Latrobe Papers. 

10. Latrobe to Lenthall, September 1, 1806, Latrobe Papers. 

11. Latrobe to Jefferson, [November] 17, 1806, Latrobe Papers. 

12. Jefferson to Latrobe, April 22, 1807, in Padover, Jefferson and the National Capital, 
pp. 386-87. 

13. Latrobe to Jefferson, May 21, 1807, Latrobe Papers. 

14. Latrobe to Jefferson, August 13, 1807, Latrobe Papers. 

15. Jefferson to Latrobe, September 20, 1807, District of Columbia Papers. 

16. Latrobe to Lenthall, May 11, 1805, Latrobe Papers. 

17. Latrobe to Jefferson, August 13, 1807, Latrobe Papers. 

18. Jefferson to Latrobe, April 14, 1811, in Padover, Jefferson and the National Capital, 
p. 469. 

19. Jefferson to Latrobe, July 12, 1812, in Padover, Jefferson and the National Capital, 
p. 471. 


130 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


The Making of a Legend: Nicolas-Toussaint 
Charlet and the Napoleonic Era 


by Karen F. Beall 




Nicolas-Toussaint Charlet, reproduced from 
Charlet et Son Oeuvre by Armand Dayot, 
published by Libraries-Imprimeries Reunies, 
Paris, [1892]. 


The figure of Napoleon Bonaparte seems to dominate the early years of the 
nineteenth century. Contributing to this impression is the depiction of his career 
in the graphic arts of the time. After his downfall in 1815 and death six years 
later, artists and writers began to glorify him, despite official censorship. The 
Library of Congress has recently acquired some six hundred lithographs asso¬ 
ciated with Napoleon and his era by Nicolas-Toussaint Charlet, one of the most 
popular propagators of the Napoleonic legend. 

Charlet’s father had served with the Republican Army and died for the Em¬ 
pire, and he himself had first-hand knowledge of military life. His serious artistic 
training was preceded by a period of service as sergeant-major in the Garde Na- 
tionale, during which he fought at the Barriere de Clichy. He then studied art 
briefly with Charles-Jacques Lebel, for whom he had little regard. In 1817 he 
enrolled in the atelier of Baron A. J. Gros, where he studied both painting and 
lithography until 1820. 

Although lithography had been invented by Aloys Senefelder in Germany 
around 1798, it first came into prominence as an art form in France. Here men 
“seeking to emancipate themselves from the existing order [found] lithography 
with its spontaneous and versatile range of expression . . . more congenial to the 
new outlook than the strict techniques of copperplate engraving.” 1 

It was while Charlet was studying with Baron Gros that he encountered the 
romantic painter Theodore Gericault, who had seen and admired his drawings. 
The two artists were to influence each other until Gericault’s death in 1824. 


131 



Preceeding page: Cap¬ 
tioned simply “1805” by 
Charlet, this drawing 
shows Napoleon brooding 
over the battlefield that 
was to become the scene 
of one of his greatest 
triumphs. 


Left: Je suis pret. 
[/ am ready.] 


132 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 
























The French captions for the Charlet litho¬ 
graphs are copied literally from the prints in 
the Library of Congress. 


Pleased with his pupil’s work, Baron Gros showed some of Charlet’s draw¬ 
ings to the lithographer Delpech. Soon after, the “Grenadier de Waterloo” ap¬ 
peared and was so successful that a second stone had to be prepared after the 
first one had worn out. It was the content of the print that attracted people, not 
the renown of the artist; Charlet had not then achieved a reputation. 

As he was an admirer of Napoleon, dissatisfied with the reestablishment of 
the Bourbons, it is not surprising that Charlet participated in the July Revolu¬ 
tion of 1830. Nevertheless he continued his artistic pursuits, and in 1836 he sub¬ 
mitted a painting to the Salon entitled “Episode de la retraite de Russie.” Official 
recognition came in 1838, when he was named professor at the Ecole Polytech- 
nique and received the Legion of Honor. 

Charlet remained at the Ecole Polytechnique until he died in 1845, leaving 
behind a small number of paintings, for which he is not particularly remembered, 
over one thousand prints, 2 and some fifteen hundred drawings. 

During Charlet’s lifetime, France had become indisputably a great military 
power. There had been numerous military painters, but until the nineteenth 
century they produced “official” pictures, portraits of kings and generals depicted 
at a secure distance from the actualities of war. Truth became increasingly im¬ 
portant to the nineteenth-century artists, who w T ere concerned with representing 
the essence of the times and portraying significant events. 

Unlike his contemporaries Gros and Raffet, who tended to portray the epic 
of war or the panorama of the battlefield, Charlet presented the individual sol¬ 
dier in his daily life with all the trials and tribulations that were a part of it. 
Lighthearted realism and nostalgia for bygone times pervade his tvork. “Charlet 
. . . gives us the cheery, the amusing, often the grotesque view of the French 
Soldier.” 3 There is an interplay of comedy and pathos, but rarely is tragedy 
portrayed. The pieces have an intimate quality, and one must be familiar with 
the social history of the times to appreciate fully each image with its accompany¬ 
ing caption, also supplied by Charlet. The artist recorded the many moods of 
the French soldier: his problems, his humor, his attitudes, his rivalries, his diffi¬ 
culties with women, his desire for drink, and his lack of funds. The drunkard in 
the lithograph reproduced here represents a recurring theme in Charlet’s inter¬ 
pretation of military life. 

Two of the lithographs, “O Amour” and “Je suis pret,” give some indication 
of Charlet’s range when they are considered together. The first, more typical of 
his work, shows the lighter side of war and one of the advantages that may accrue 
to the man in uniform. The second is a powerful portrayal of war’s darkest side. 


The Making of a Legend: Nicolas-Toussaint Charlet and The Napoleonic Era / 133 



y;ff 




Quoique fantive J’aime encore mieux etre saoul que d’etre bete, ga 
dure moins longtems. 

[Although a sinner, I’d rather be drunk than stupid: you get over it 
sooner .] 


134 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 



“O amour!!!” with three eloquent exclamation points is Charlet’s terse 
caption for this print. 















Lcoute, Jean! If faut toujours preferer le pain 
noil • de la Nation au gateau de VElranger. 
[Listen, John, it is always better to eat black 
bread at home than cake abroad.] 

Artillerie legere allant prendre position. 

[Light artillery moving to position] 


It is clear that the man confronted by Death has not emotionally survived Water¬ 
loo and has never been able to make a new life. 

Charlet made children the subject of many of his prints. In the two of them 
reproduced here the all-pervasive effect of the Napoleonic wars is evident. The 
children reflect their elders’ preoccupation with war and with the intense na¬ 
tionalism it engenders. 

The historical and satirical content of Charlet’s works overshadows their 
artistic qualities, although their aesthetic merit is by no means inconsiderable. 
It seems curious that an artist working years after the events he portrayed became 
in effect a documentarian of the times. The very fact that his work does have this 
dimension is an interesting aspect of the cultural history of France between 1820 
and 1840. 

As an artist of the people, Charlet has some affinity with the poet Pierre Jean 
de Beranger (1780-1857). Beranger, often regarded as the national poet of 
France, enjoyed great popularity during his lifetime, but his reputation declined 


The Making of a Legend: Nicolas-Toussaint Charlet and The Napoleonic Era / 135 


Quand il n’y en aura plus, il y en aura 
encore. 

[There are more where these came from.] 



after his death. Some of his songs and poems offer a gentle expose of the Napo¬ 
leonic era. He so irritated the Bourbon monarchy with poems published in 1821 
that he was sentenced to a jail term, during which he continued to write. Another 
series of poems brought a second sentence and another, a fine. His popularity was 
such that the fine was paid by public subscription. 

Like Beranger, Charlet enjoyed success despite censorship problems, work¬ 
ing diligently with the collaboration of several lithographers and publishers: 
Delpech, Gihaut, Motte, and Villain. His subject included military costume, 
genre scenes, and some portraits, approximately half of which are of Napoleon. 
The portrait reproduced here shows the solitary leader standing on a rock, over- 


136 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 



“Apotheose de Charlet,” a lithograph by H. Bellange, shows a crowd of people typical of Char let’s own 
creations flocking to pay homage to him. Reproduced from Charlet et Son Oeuvre by Armand Dayot, 
published by Libraries-lmprimeries Reunies, Paris, [1892]. 


The Making of a Legend: Nicolas-Toussaint Charlet and The Napoleonic Era / 137 








looking a battlefield. The date 1805 refers to Austerlitz; the feeling conveyed is 
the heroism of the man standing alone in his decision, which was to lead to a 
brilliant victory. 

Charlet also produced vignettes for poems and songs and numerous albums 
published from 1822 to 1845. The frontispiece for one of the albums, this one 
published in 1823, shows a man being inundated by hundreds of issues of albums 
deposited at his feet. He promises that if these are insufficient he will provide 
more. 

Charlet worked until the last. On October 30, 1845, while he was drawing 
with his wife and sons looking on, his pencil stopped and he said, “Adieu, mes 
amis, je rneurs, car je ne puis plus travailler.” (Goodbye, my loved ones, I am 
dying because I can no longer work.) 4 With these words Nicolas-Toussaint 
Charlet died. He left us a great wealth of material. The Library of Congress staff 
hopes scholars of the Napoleonic era will find the large collection of his litho¬ 
graphs of use and interest. 

In addition to the materials described here there are approximately 325 items 
on Napoleon and the French Revolution in the Gardiner Greene Hubbard Col¬ 
lection; several pertinent scrapbooks in the John Davis Batchelder Collection; 
and an uncounted group of pictures in the Joseph Verner Reed Collection, all in 
the Prints and Photographs Division. 


NOTES 


1. Felix Brunner, A Handbook of Graphic Reproduction Processes (New York: © 1962), 
pp.177-78. 

2. M. Joseph Felix Leblanc La Combe, Charlet, sa vie, ses lettres suivi d’une description 
raisonnee de son oeuvre lithographique (Paris: 1856) , pp. 207-400. 

3. Rose G. Kingsley, A History of French Art, 1100-1899 (New York: 1899) , p. 344. 

4. La Combe, Charlet, p. 199. 


138 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 




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Tobacco Label Art 

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by Renata V. Shaw 

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By picturing the American Indian and the 
turbaned Turk together, the manufacturer 
advertised his Turkish-American blend of 
tobacco, an innovation of the 1860s. 


American social history has been recorded in many ways, shapes, and forms— 
literature, music, art, drama. It can also be read on tobacco labels. Here portraits 
of political and military figures abound, sports personalities and stage scenes ap¬ 
pear, paintings are reproduced and technological developments mirrored, the 
draft and evolution are satirized, and fashion and the feminine form are exalted. 

The Prints and Photographs Division has among its nineteenth-century 
ephemera a collection of about a thousand tobacco labels acquired through copy¬ 
right deposit from the 1840s to the 1880s, a period when all such deposits were 
retained. At the time, scant attention was paid to these seemingly worthless pieces 
of paper, because nobody then could see their value as a contribution to social 
history and industrial archeology. Today, they are precious examples of early 
American advertising and label “art.” 

Several important technical developments gave rise to the start of modern, 
colorful packaging of consumer goods; inexpensive machine-produced paper, 
cheap color lithography, and a vast network of shops with display shelves to ac¬ 
commodate a variety of individually packed wares. 

From the beginning luxury goods, such as wine and tobacco, were the prod¬ 
ucts on which the greatest ingenuity in advertising and presentation of goods was 
lavished. This was, of course, sound practice from the manufacturer’s point of 
view. To tempt the consumer with goods not strictly life’s necessities, he had to 
present packages that appealed to the buyer’s snob sense, his yearning for elegance, 
and his desire for self-indulgence. 

In the latter part of the nineteenth century, tobacco was sold mainly in the 
form of snuff, chewing tobacco, pipe tobacco, and cigars. Snuff was packaged in 
small cylindrical boxes; chewing tobacco was packed in wooden drums or in 
rectangular one-pound slabs, which were divided by the tobacconist into smaller 
chews, or plugs; pipe tobacco came in drawstring bags, and cigars in wooden 
boxes with lids ideal for fanciful illustrations, both inside and out. The different 
sizes and shapes of tobacco packages explain the variety of labels in use during 
the forty-year period that saw them transformed from relatively simple black-and- 
white designs into the garishly brilliant inventions of the late 1880s. 

The earliest of the surviving commercial labels resembled title pages of books 
and consisted of the name of the product in italics and some discreet border de¬ 
sign to finish off the composition. Their purpose was identification of the product, 
with no thought of commercial boasting. When pictures were added to the design, 
they usually showed the mill or factory where the products originated or the dig¬ 
nified, bearded countenance of the manufacturer, whose facsimile signature was 


140 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


supposed to guarantee the purity and excellence of the product. 

Eventually, competition between companies became too keen for the genteel 
approach. Something had to be done to attract the buyer’s eye to the superior 
product. The most obvious device was to use more color to force the buyer to 
notice the package. Another was to choose an illustration that appealed to the 
special interests of the buyer—the male tobacco smoker. 

There was no limitation to the subject matter considered suitable for dec¬ 
orating a tobacco label. It ranged from patriotic and lofty themes, current events 
of American life, and foreign historical events to personages, sports, and new in¬ 
ventions. On the lighter side, there appeared such favorites as sentimental por¬ 
traits of maidens, children, and animals, Oriental nudes, goddesses and mermaids, 
foreign royalty, and spendidly attired Indians. The labels were not intended for 
a highly sophisticated public, although some were based on literary and artistic 
themes, and stars of the musical stage and the theater were frequently shown. The 
humor, often crude but always good natured, now seems touchingly naive and 
sentimental. 



“Grecian Bend.” 


Nineteenth Century Tobacco Label Art / 141 







PRESSED, SWEET, FINE CUT CAVENDISH 


Manufactured JVo. 2 WW/, 213 i\- 215 Uuane Streets, 

sraw»¥3&s. 


Eotaied acoording to Aotof Congrats, in the tear 1847, by John Anderson A Co., the Manufacturers, in the Southern District of New-York 


Bristol A Toney, Printers, 111 Folton Street. 


Although the 1840’s had not evolved a 
true commercial style, advertisers already 
grasped the idea of timeliness in their sales 
message. What else would account for two 
different tobacco labels from 1847 both cele¬ 
brating Gen. Zachary Taylor’s victory at 
Buena Vista on February 23, 1847? Advertisers 
vied to be the first to publish a label cele¬ 
brating some timely event: a military victory, 
a state visit, a new play or sports event, a new 
craze or fashion. 


142 j Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 



The oldest label in the collection is an 
1844 black-and-white engraving for Maccoboy 
Snuff. Label art had not yet developed a pic¬ 
torial language of its own but used traditional 
book-page composition for a new purpose. 





























Special interests of immigrants coming 
from Germany, Ireland, and England during 
the 1850s were also considered. Here, the 
Fenian movement is commemorated in an 
Irish label printed in green, with a verse 
designed to touch the sentiments of the Irish 
newcomer. The kilted Scot was another com¬ 
mon symbol, for Scottish snuff manufacturers 
since the eighteenth century had sold their 
products widely in several countries. Thus the 
Scottish smoker could buy his American 
tobacco under a label well known to him from 
his homeland. Idealized portraits of Garibaldi 
—popular, perhaps, because he appealed to the 
democratic aspirations of the mid-nineteenth- 
century immigrant—appeared on many differ¬ 
ent labels, from tobacco to sewing silk. 



rosr ,vi ceaiae roc, op/re/v &>'a tvpamts ha mo. 

MUST AS/-. A MOTVEHS PVSl.COME, S/fOM A StOAMCS al/r HAHH/EH LAA/C, 

mhepe m c pool cPossvee/vci a.vos r*/?At.O(MjtevE/? sha^l ee see*, 

AMO AHEHt PHAM* GOO preu. L/v£ANDOi£'Sr/LL PVEAP/H ‘oa THE GPEEH ‘ 

fA UF\C T u R E D OF pURE VjRCIN fA, Le\F, By, 

C rr *>•.'•! N &CO RICHMOND VJRCfNJA. 

Vhouv\le \c £/tfCY 272 C/\N\l St J'ieW'* Yor k . 
eetsped accopo/hc to act or co/vc pess. 

J 8PH1LP UTW. 3 SPRUCE S r N Y. 


JL 


Nineteenth Century Tobacco Label Art / 143 
















































144 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


Political and military heroes were not the 
only famous figures to be found on tobacco 
labels. Dante, Goethe, and Tom Moore may 
not have had any connection with smoking, 
but they were an easily recognizable symbol of 
the “old country”; and familiar figures from 
classical history provided such unlikely label 
subjects as Seneca, Socrates, and Pythagoras. 



































































It is understandable that inventions served 
as inspiration for labels in an age when every¬ 
body had faith in the improvement of life 
through better communications, rapid trans¬ 
portation, and other technological advances. 
The Library of Congress collection has three 
different labels—all poorly designed and 
hastily executed—commemorating submarine 
cable telegraphy, inaugurated in 1857. The 
trade name of the tobacco on the label shown 
suggests the importance popularly attached to 
this technological breakthrough. 







■jVii-ij: A:;-:: 




F ABRIC A DC TABACOS 0£ 


Nineteenth Century Tobacco Label Art / 145 
















































> 




/ Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


Although tobacco labels were often copy¬ 
righted, the manufacturers had no qualms 
about adapting to their purposes any picture 
that caught their fancy. In the collection are 
several clear examples of this type of borrow¬ 
ing. The first is the famous portrait of the 
Indian scholar Sequoyah, who became known 
through a McKenny and Hall lithograph that 
shows him displaying the Cherokee syllabary 
he invented which paved the way to literacy 
for thousands of his people. The tobacco 
manufacturer simply obliterated the Cherokee 
characters and substituted his own name. 





























An equally significant development in the 
1850s was the establishment of ocean steamship 
lines, which made commerce and travel 
speedier, safer, and more dependable. The 
early vessels used steam only as auxiliary 
power to sails; they were, nevertheless, a vast 
improvement over sailing ships. A handsome 
color lithograph of the side-wheeler Yorktown 
shows large crates of tobacco on the pier wait¬ 
ing to be put aboard for shipment overseas. 


Nineteenth Century Tobacco Label Art / 147 




















148 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 





V///////f LA NORMAND1 <• rste /trr/tf/rr/ 


tsr/ysYfrj u ff terr/wet 

£' ///<• L/cf/f/ f'/t.Jt'r/r 


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mu ottm iuuik 


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/re////-/z/Z/// //y(. /■ j'zzyzz/j 


z.j .jzyzzrzr z/z //zy rzzzz 


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This handsome color lithograph was 
copied from Charles Robert Leslie’s painting 
Uncle Toby and Widow Wadman in the 
Sentry Box (1851), today in the Tate Gallery 
in London. The painter based his genre scene 
on two important characters in Laurence 
Sterne’s novel Tristram Shandy. Uncle Toby’s 
long-stemmed pipe made the painting suitable 
for a tobacco advertisement. 


































































































































The labels also tell the story of tobacco 
culture. A Cuban with a palm-thatched roof 
farmhouse and surrounded by palms and 
tobacco plants is pictured on several black- 
and-white labels. In another, bales of tobacco 
are being carried to a sailboat moored at the 
wharf directly below the fields. A small 1850 
label showing a warehouse operator and a 
sailor exchanging papers for the hogsheads 
ready for shipping bears the optimistic 
mottoes: “Honest industry with enterprising 
perseverance shall succeed” and “Diligence is 
the mother of good luck!” In addition, the 
manufacturer promises to please “the taste of 
the most fastidious consumer of the weed.” 

The scene here depicts a workroom, w'ith 
cigarmakers rolling cigars by hand. 

Toward the end of the 1850s color 
lithography achieved a high degree of tech¬ 
nical proficiency, as seen in the large 
lithograph advertising the Empire State Brand, 
reminiscent of the seal of New York. The 
coloring is soft and rich, the design balanced 
and harmonious. The art of advertising was 
reaching a point of development where it 
was no longer dependent on the imitation of 
pictures created for other purposes. 



Nineteenth Century Tobacco Label Art / 149 



fMUKfO ACCORDING TO A CT OTCMC/tfSS A P t&60 BY T ROSCNBUSH /* fHf CLERKS OffKE Of THf DISTRICT COURT Of Pit SOJIHfftH OISlRICf Of AT. Y. 


150 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 



















































In 1860 considerable curiosity was aroused 
when the first Japanese mission arrived in the 
United States carrying a treaty box containing 
a letter from the Tokugawa Shogun to the 
president and a treaty in Japanese and Eng¬ 
lish. This momentous visit to exchange ratifi¬ 
cations of the 1858 commercial treaty was a 
direct result of Commodore Perry’s successful 
effort to open Japan to American trade. 
American ignorance of the customs and inter¬ 
ests of the Japanese Is reflected in the tobacco 
labels inspired by the visit. A curious error 
was made in naming one brand of tobacco 
Harikari. The label for it shows a pagodalike 
carriage used in the New York parade of the 
Japanese commissioners. Tame (Tommy) 
Tateishi, the popular Japanese interpreter, 
and some attendants sit with the treaty box 
on the platform. 

An error of another type occurred in the 
brand name on a label honoring the visit 
of the Prince of Wales to New York in 
October 1860. The black-and-white engraved 
label is headed “El Principe de Wales” instead 
of “Gales,” the Spanish form. The likeness is 
based on a well-known photograph from the 
famous Brady studios in New York. 

Sports figures were also honored with 
tobacco labels displaying their names and 
portraits. Five different labels glorify John C. 
Heenan, American prizefighter, who returned 
to his homeland proudly sporting a champion¬ 
ship belt after fighting the world champion, 
Tom Sayers, to a draw at Farnborough near 
London. Tom Sayers is shown sprawled on his 
back in the ring floored by a blow from the 
American. The fans eventually saved his life 
by pulling him out of Heenan’s reach. 



v \\\A c>k,,r —" U °S M^ EJOR H0 jxViV 


LAVUELTADE ABAJO SUPERIORES 


Caile de la Salud N" 133 ) ) ) 

H A B A N A. " ' 

Entered tue*.rftrrtq to rut ct'frngrtjs *d) r Mfa bt/J. Htundtryr* ut tAe rtfr'Lr o/ftrs <?///> r dot that ofiAe «w i/A*rn d/s r/ .1 } 


i- M 




Nineteenth Century Tobacco Label Art / 151 


































152 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 







YUELTAA BAJOT OBACO 

FABBICO I)E TABATOS 
de la mejorlioja de la vuelta - a bajo 

Gam/i iixados por 

v/» ». /£»., 

m**to*i- -- 


“Loyal,” “Union,” and “The Patriots 
Pride—the Old Flag” were Civil War period 
tobacco labels decorated with flags, American 
eagles, and liberty caps—all patriotic symbols 
designed to appeal to supporters of the Union. 
Only one label reflects dissenting opinion: a 
caricature of a draftee awkwardly holding 
his rifle while two street urchins poke fun at 
him in the background. An officer grabs 
another conscript by the collar to line him up 
with the rest of the new soldiers. The label 
was copyrighted in 1863, the year opposition 
developed to the newly passed conscription 
act. In the same year a label sympathetic to 


the South and featuring Lee appeared. 
Another, “The Constitution,” which shows a 
handshake below the flag of the United States 
surrounded by symbols of the Republic, ex¬ 
presses the spirit of conciliation appropriate 
to 1866. 

With the start of the Civil War, the 
popular heroes were the military leaders. An 
early label devoted to one of the decisive 
events of the strife shows Fort Sumter in 
Charleston Harbor with Major Anderson in a 
medallion portrait surrounded by flags, 
cannon balls, and cannon. The label for “Our 


Country’s Pride” is a color lithograph of seven 
famous Union generals on horseback—Henry 
W. Halleck and George B. McClellan, left and 
right in the foreground, and George C. Meade, 
Philip H. Sheridan, Franz Sigel, Joseph 
Hooker, and Ambrose E. Burnside, left to 
right in the background. Individual labels 
were also devoted to McClellan and to Ulysses 
S. Grant, David S. Stanley, William Tecumseh 
Sherman, and Michael Corcoran, the com¬ 
mander of the “Irish Legion,” and to the 
Confederate Generals Robert E. Lee, “Stone¬ 
wall” Jackson, and Joseph E. Johnson. 


Nineteenth Century Tobacco Label Art / 153 








































154 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


Even during the Civil War years European 
political events and personalities were fea¬ 
tured on tobacco labels. “Italia Unida” cele¬ 
brated the unification of Italy in 1861, and 
“Schleswig Holstein” alluded to the events 
of 1864 when Austria joined with Prussia to 
separate Schleswig-Holstein from Denmark. 
“Alexander Imperials” shows the “Czar 
Liberator” Alexander II of Russia, whose 
reign was characterized by a cautious move 
toward liberalism. Other members of Euro¬ 
pean royal houses, particularly beautiful 
princesses, were favorites of tobacco adver¬ 
tisers. Princess Alexandra of England and 
Empress Eugenie of France graced labels for 
chewing tobacco, the latter transformed into 
the “Belle of Kentucky.” 









































The postbellum era introduced labels 
featuring sports and pastimes popular in all 
sections of the country, from baseball to 
billiards. Even before 1869, when the first 
professional team—the Cincinnati Red Stock¬ 
ings—was founded, labels advertised both 
tobacco and baseball, which had emerged as 
a national sport during the Civil War. 



VUELTA ABAJC TOBACCO 




Nineteenth Century Tobacco Label Art / 155 


























































156 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 





























































Another craze was introduced in 1869 
when the rubber-tired velocipede arrived on 
the market. Earlier the wheels were of wood 
with iron rims, which offered such a bumpy 
ride that they were known as boneshakers. 

The new velocipede was a great improvement, 
as men and women, young and old, took to 
the wheels for a spin in the open air. The 
most humorous of these labels shows a 
bewildered lady in city traffic in the path of 
both a streetcar and a horse. 

The first transatlantic yacht race from 
New York to the Isle of Wight was won by the 
American schooner Henrietta in thirteen days, 
twenty-one hours, and forty-five minutes in 
December 1866, an event recorded on several 
labels showing the proud winner. Light 
harness racing was a more folksy spcrt known 
to a large segment of the rural population. 
Several labels picture famous horses like 
Dexter and Hambletonian, the sire of many 
of America’s famous racehorses. Both were 
immortalized by Currier and Ives. 

The entertainment world of New York 
in the late 1860s had more variety to offer than 
the programs of today. Entertainers, singers, 
and stars of the opera and theater were im¬ 
ported every season from Europe. The 
discriminating public could enjoy plays and 
operas in the original German, French, or 
Italian in addition to English. The foreign 
language companies presented as many as a 
hundred different plays in one year. Copy¬ 
righted tobacco labels of these years display 
scenes from some of the most popular pro¬ 
ductions. In “The Grand Duchess” Lucille 
Tostee, star of Offenbach’s La Grande 
Duchesse de Gerolstein, sings “Void le tabac,” 
an adaptation of the operetta’s popular “Void 
le sabre de mon pere.” 



to ait of r ^ r ^f)he T)istf*u.rt of^farriu^’^fr&Sona the fieri. 










Nineteenth Century Tobacco Label Art / 157 






A ballet of eight tableaux called White 
Fawn was the source for five different labels of 
fairyland ballerinas. In contrast is the label 
inspired by Fanchon, another kind of spectacle 
which remained in the repertory for several 
decades. 

Other labels show the British opera singer 
Euphrosyne Parepa-Rosa as Norma and scenes 
from The Pickwick Papers, La Camille, and 
Fahtaff. These sophisticated themes from the 
entertainment world were intended to reach 


the tobacco smoker who preferred “Jerome 
Park,” “Social,” and “Grecian Bend,” brands 
whose labels depicted high society. The 
“Grecian bend,” a once-fashionable posture, 
often exaggerated by the bustle, is demon¬ 
strated by the lady who lights her cigar from 
a gentleman’s pipe. This lighthearted reflec¬ 
tion on the fashions of the day shows the 
return to more prosperous times, when people 
could devote their attention to amusements 
and outings. 


158 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 






















By the 1870s there were two schools of tobacco 
label art: the traditional, reflecting events of 
the day such as the expansion of the frontier, 
the last skirmishes with the Indians, the 
changes brought about by railroads and 
balloons, the rapid extinction of the buffalo, 
and the gradual emancipation of women; and 
the sensual, emphasizing the female figure in a 
variety of settings, from classical mythology 
and romantic literature to the exotic Near 
East and modern West. Technically, the labels 
were larger and better executed than the 
earlier ones. More attention was paid to com¬ 
position; the colors became softer and brighter. 
And an attempt was made to incorporate the 
lettering and advertising message into a 
harmonious whole. In most cases, however, the 
labels were too cluttered with different pic¬ 
torial themes to achieve the impact of their 
modern counterparts. 



Nineteenth Century Tobacco Label Art \ 159 




























Indian maidens were depicted as dark¬ 
haired beauties in feathered headdresses 
strolling along mountain streams or reclining 
in hammocks amidst ferns and palmettos, 
idealizations of the noble savage living in 
blissful innocence beyond the range of the 
civilized world. 

Black Hawk and Red Cloud, chiefs who 
resisted the advance of the white man on 
their territories, were popularized in romantic 
poses in “Wild West” settings. Another timely 
brand, “Rivals,” shows a fierce Indian and 
a white hunter chasing a buffalo over the 
open prairie. The “Echo” chewing tobacco 
label is decorated with the head of a mag¬ 
nificent buffalo, even then in danger of 
extinction. 


160 J Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 



The American Indian was also frequently 
used in juxtaposition with a turbaned Turk 
enjoying his waterpipe in a coffee shop. 
Turkish motifs appeared in tobacco labels 
when Turkish light tobacco became fashion¬ 
able in the late 1860s. This coincided with the 
fad for cigarettes, manufactured from a 
Turkish-Virginia blend. 



Nineteenth Century Tobacco Label Art / 161 





























... ■■ r r - - ■ * - — - ---( 

Manufactured only for 








v w-*:- 










162 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 




















The Turkish themes of harem ladies 
reclining on soft cushions smoking the hookah 
or resting by lotus ponds in the moonlight 
gave the American advertising artist complete 
liberty to indulge in the most daring flights of 
imagination. He could safely portray lightly 
draped, dark-eyed temptresses in rich jewels 
and gold bangles without being criticized for 
exceeding the limits of good taste. In contrast 
are labels like “Crusader,’ whose portrait was 
inspired by the Women’s Christian Tem¬ 
perance Union, founded in 1874. She is fash¬ 
ionably dressed, but her mission in life is 
indicated by the women in the background 
who are preparing to storm a tavern. 

No novelties of the 1870s escaped the 
commentary of the tobacco label artist. He 
showed a balloon rising above the globe and, 
in another label, the new Brooklyn Bridge, 
formally opened to traffic ten years after the 
label was copyrighted. An unknown artist 
made a drawing dedicated to the spirit of 
water in Fountain Square in Cincinnati for 
the label “Fountain Dew.” 

The ancient device of using animals 
dressed as humans to satirize contemporary life 
w r as also employed by label designers. “What 
Is It” may have been a veiled criticism of 
Darwin’s controversial treatise The Descent of 
Man, which w r as then being earnestly debated 
by educated men. Another label, “Mule Ear,” 
shows a mule standing on a porch of a 
southern mansion, in morning robe and cap, 
examining fresh tobacco leaves brought in 
from the fields on his estate. This label does 
not seem to carry any hidden message; it is 
only a humorous scene of an animal acting 
like a human. 

There are also many labels which are 
merely pretty, sentimental pictures, without 
any story attached: a farmer pauses in his 
plowing to enjoy a plug of tobacco, a beautiful 
maiden dreamily admires a bouquet of 
forget-me-nots, exquisitely dressed young girls 
roll hoops in a quiet city street, and im¬ 
peccably dressed hunters rest in a forest 
clearing. 



Nineteenth Century Tobacco Label Art \ 163 




















164 / Prints and Draiuings in the Nineteenth Century 





















But more and more it was the glamor 
girl who w'as front and center. Indeed, 
idealized beautiful women were becoming so 
important in advertising that artists had to 
turn to history, myth, romantic literature, and 
the stage for backgrounds. Two different com¬ 
panies depicted Leda, to whom Zeus appeared 
in the guise of a swan. Other used lightly 
draped ideal female nudes rising from the sea 
in a mist of pink clouds. “Jennie Hughes,” a 
New York actress, is a less ethereal dream 
girl. These lithographs of the 1870s with their 
soft, chalky crayon outlines and delicately 
applied color testify to the designer’s personal 
touch. 


With the 1880s an obvious change took 
place in the technical as w r ell as the artistic 
aspects of label art. The surface of the prints 
became slicker and smoother, acquiring an oily 
sheen. The illustrations deteriorated to the 
level of stereotyped cover girls, lacking subject 
interest and individuality, surrounded by ani¬ 
mals and flowers; colors were now bright but 
garish. The decline of tobacco label art in the 
late 1880s must be attributed to a vastly 
greater demand for labels, with handprinting 
supplanted by mechanical processes and the 
introduction of new inks and new papers. 
Manufacturers also demanded greater speed, 
which meant that artistic quality had to be 


sacrificed for faster production. An example of 
this type of label is “Prosperity,” a symbolic 
figure surrounded by gold medals from trade 
fairs and an open box of cigars. 

After 1890 chromolithographs on labels 
were gradually replaced by photomechanical 
reproductions, based on actual photographs of 
people and places. With the introduction of 
this new technique the era of tobacco label 
“art,” which saw the modest black-and-white 
early designs develop into the flamboyant 
chromolithographs of the 1880s, came to an 
end. 


Nineteenth Century Tobacco Label Art / 165 










166 





Five Sketchbooks of Emanuel Leutze 


by Raymond L. Stehle 


Emanuel Leutze who painted Westward the 
Course of Empire Takes Its Way, a mural in 
the Capitol. (Photograph from Harper’s 
Weekly, August 8, 1868, p. 509.) 


In the summer of 1962 the Library of Congress received through Dr. Egon Hanf- 
staengl, a gift from his uncle Dr. Eberhard Hanfstaengl, the former Director of 
the Munich Pinakothek. The gift consisted of two sketchbooks of the artist 
Emanuel Leutze and fifteen letters addressed to him—ten of them written by Gen. 
Winfield S. Hancock and two by Frederick W. Seward. The letters are now in 
the custody of the Manuscript Division and the sketchbooks have been added to 
the collections of the Prints and Photographs Division, where they have joined a 
group of three other Leutze sketchbooks and a small portfolio of drawings that 
were presented to the Library by Dr. Eberhard Hanfstaengl in 1954. The Hanf¬ 
staengl family had been intimate friends of the family of Leutze’s daughter Alice, 
who had married Carl Jooss of Munich; and it was from their children that Dr. 
Hanfstaengl obtained the Leutze items. He is still in possession of one or more 
Leutze sketchbooks and owns several of the artist’s paintings. 

Emanuel Leutze, who is best known for his picture Washington Crossing the 
Delaware, was born in Germany on May 24, 1816, and was nine years old when 
his parents emigrated to the United States and settled in Philadelphia, where he 
grew up. Even in his youth his talent for drawing was not to be doubted, and 
when he was only twenty he was elected to membership in the Artists’ Fund So¬ 
ciety of Philadelphia. 

In 1837 young Leutze was engaged by Longacre and Herring to go to Wash¬ 
ington and paint portraits of some of the men prominent in the Government for 
inclusion in their National Portrait Gallery of Distinguished Americans. The 


167 


depression of that year put a temporary end to the enterprise, and for a time 
Leutze became an itinerant portrait painter in Virginia. He then returned to 
Philadelphia and, after a short period of intense activity, he acquired the means 
to set out for Diisseldorf in 1840 for further study. During the next few years, 
he painted a number of pictures which found ready purchasers among American 
collectors. Toward the end of the year 1845, Leutze married the daughter of a 
German officer in Diisseldorf. 

Sometime in 1849 he began work on Washington Crossing the Delaware, 
which occupied him for about two years. Before the painting was finished, it was 
purchased by Messrs. Goupil and Company of Paris, who planned to exhibit it 
in the United States and take orders for an engraving that was being made. When 
the picture was exhibited in Washington, Leutze was present. He had hoped to 
obtain a commission from the U.S. Congress to paint a replica and then bring his 
young family to America; however, other American artists and their friends 
thought that if Congress planned to award any commissions for paintings they 
would like to share in the distribution. So it is not surprising that the matter got 
mired in the Capitol and that when the 32d Congress came to an end on March 
3, 1853, no one had been awarded a commission. Undoubtedly disappointed, 
Leutze returned to Diisseldorf. His next picture was another large one— Wash¬ 
ington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth. That was followed by smaller works, 
many of which also found American purchasers. 

In 1859 conditions again seemed propitious for a return to America. Since 
several of the sketchbooks reviewed in the following pages fall within this later 
period, some of the events of those years are related in a discussion of the books. 
For a few years subsequent to 1863, his life was uneventful, but there is reason 
to believe that those years were followed by a period characterized by ill health 
and debt. He died in Washington on July 18, 1868, and is buried in Glenwood 
Cemeterv. 

j 

Leutze's paintings may be classified as follows: about sixty are historical pic¬ 
tures, nearly one hundred are portraits, around thirty are works inspired by lit¬ 
erature, approximately fifty are products of his own fancy, and about ten are 
landscapes. 

Considerable light is thrown upon Leutze's activities by the contents of Dr. 
Hanfstaengl's gifts, but the lack of place names and dates and even the arrange¬ 
ment of the sketches, which follow no particular chronological sequence, make 
their interpretation difficult and often uncertain. Leutze was not plagued by 
system—an unused page in any book was all that was important. 


168 / Prints and Drawings in the Sineteenth Century 


The contents of these books are confined to the years 1841 and 1859—61. 
They will be reviewed in what seems to be chronological order. As yet they have 
been assigned no definite designations, so they will be referred to as (1) the 
“green sketchbook,” (2) the “dark brown sketchbook,” (3) the “buff-colored 
sketchbook,” (4) the “album,” and (5) the “light brown sketchbook,” or numer¬ 
ically in the same order. 

The green sketchbook contains drawings made by Leutze soon after he had 
left Philadelphia at the age of twenty-four to study at Diisseldorf. (He registered 
with the authorities there on February 11, 1841.) Some of the sketches were prob¬ 
ably made when he was a student at the Academy of Art in Diisseldorf. One is a 
caricature of himself painting. Examination of the sketch shows the varying char¬ 
acter of his thoughts. That his homeland had not been forgotten is clear from 
the presence—among the subjects represented in his nebulous “thoughts”—of the 
Capitol at Washington and of an ear of corn. Also distinguishable are some pretty 
girls, a pair of fencing foils, a ship, a charioteer and, at the top of the page, food 
and drink. One of the sketches in this book is not by Leutze but by his friend 
Trevor McClurg of Pittsburgh. Someone has written beside this drawing “Self- 
portrait of Leutze.” Whoever did this failed to recognize the significance of the 
“T. McC” written beneath it. The sketch is undated, but it was doubtless made 
in 1841. After a year or so at the academy, Leutze became dissatisfied with its 
routine and withdrew. It was then that he and his friends McClurg and J. G. 
Schwarze set up a studio of their own in Diisseldorf; the three had probably 
known each other in Philadelphia. Trevor McClurg must have been one of 
Leutze’s most intimate friends, for the artist named one of his sons after him— 
Trevor McClurg Leutze, who became Engineer in Charge of the Eastern Division 
of the New York State Engineer’s Office. 

The earliest of the remaining four sketchbooks is probably the dark brown 
one (no. 2). From the earliest Diisseldorf period (1841), covered by the green 
book, one is transported to the period following his final return to America in 
1859. Leutze had been home for the better part of a year during the period 
1851-52 and would have remained in America had there been any prospect of 
obtaining commissions for the kind of painting that interested him—historical 
painting. 

At the top of the first page of this sketchbook is written “Star of Empire, 
History.” Beneath are listed subjects which he seems to have thought suitable for 
pictures illustrating the general title: “Moses slaying the taskmaster, feudalism, 
Knight feudal, right of inquiry, Luther, Brutus, Cromwell, Saul anointed king” 


Five Sketchbooks of Emanuel Leutze / 169 



170 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 
















Sketch of Capt. James Stone of the steamship 
Arabia. 


Far left: A self-caricature by Leutze. 

Left: A drawing by Leutze’s friend, Trevor 
McClurg. Note the initials “T. McC.” 


and two which the writer found illegible. Perhaps he was already thinking of a 
mural for the Capitol, encompassed by a border in which small pictures on these 
subjects would be incorporated. The oil sketch he later submitted to Capt. Mont¬ 
gomery C. Meigs, bearing the title “Westward the Course of Empire Takes Its 
Way” was such a composition; the border contains many sketches. The mural 
itself is another such composition; it has an elaborate border, but the subjects 
incorporated in it are different from those of the oil sketch. 


Following several sketches which are of such a nature that only Leutze could 
explain their presence (procurators of St. Mark, a Franciscan cardinal, and other 
specimens of aristocratic faces) there are many portrait sketches, some dated, of 
passengers and crew aboard the steamship Arabia on which he returned to Amer¬ 
ica in 1859. 1 That of Capt. James Stone, dated January 26, 1859, is reproduced 
here as representative of this group. 

Other entries of significance concern a picture that Leutze painted in 1860, 
the Founding of Maryland, which now hangs in the headquarters of the Mary¬ 
land Historical Society in Baltimore. He made a trip to the region of the first 
settlement on the lower Potomac to obtain firsthand information for the setting 
he was to represent. Actually, the landscape had changed considerably since the 
settlement. There are several sketches devoted to the plants of the region, a grouse 
and heads of other birds, a turtle, and several broad sweeps showing the lay of 
the land and the Potomac estuary. Among this group is an undated sketch of a 
warship; on it is written “Old Ironsides, Constitution, Point Lookout.” The log 
of this ship shows that it was at Point Lookout, St. Mary’s County, Maryland, on 
April 14—15, 1860. Dates are so rare in these books that it is a pleasure to find 
something which can be dated and which fixes the artist momentarily in time and 
place. Finally, among the oddities that occur is a little sketch which is identifiable 
as the Doge’s Palace; it probably represents a pleasant memory of his visit to 
Venice as a young man. Later, in 1864, he painted a picture entitled Venice Vic¬ 
torious, in which the palace is conspicuous. 

The three remaining sketchbooks (nos. 3-5) fall within the period 1859-61. 
The dominant theme of the subjects represented is emigration to the West, which 
eventually culminated in the Capitol mural Westward the Course of Empire 
Takes Its Way. 

In a letter of January 12, 1854, 2 which Meigs addressed to Leutze in Dlis- 
seldorf, he had said: 


Five Sketchbooks of Emanuel Leutze / 171 


My dear sir. 

The reputation you bear as an artist induces me to address you this 
letter. 

In designing the Extension of the U.S. Capitol there are spaces provided 
on the walls of some of the Rooms & Halls but more particularly on the 
marble stairways which seem almost to require decoration by the hand of the 
Painter. 

Now are there any American artists capable of executing a fresco paint¬ 
ing of large size. Would it not be well for some of them yourself for instance 
to turn their attention to this art with a view to this building. 

I believe that I shall be supported by Congress in calling to our aid all 
the best talent & skill in art which our country can boast. And should you 
be disposed to risk the loss of time incurred in the study if unsuccessful I will 
be glad to communicate with you on the subject to send you tracings of our 
designs & receive from you hints in relation to decoration. 

I believe that suitable designs would be accepted by Congress & the Pres¬ 
ident in whose hands the building is by law placed 

Very respectfully 

Your obt svt 
M. C. Meigs 
Captain U.S. Engineers 
in charge of Wash. Aq. & Cap 1 extension 


It was not until three years later—in a letter received by the architect on 
February 8, 1857—that Leutze submitted a long list of subjects he considered 
to be suitable for paintings; among them was “Emigration to the West.” 
When he returned to the United States in 1859, he probably expected, or at 
any rate hoped, that he would soon be at work in the Capitol; the walls were 
about ready for the artist. Meigs wrote to Leutze on February 12, 3 shortly 
after his arrival in New York, urging him to come to Washington at once. 


172 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


Capitol Extension & Washington 
Aqueduct Office 
Washington 12 Feby 1859. 

E. Leutze 
Artist 
New York 

My dear sir. 

The newspapers inform rne of your arrival in this country & I write to 
express to you my gratification at the news & to suggest the importance, in 
view of the great work on which I doubt not you are bound, of your losing 
as little time as possible, in coming to Washington. 

It has been my earnest desire so to arrange the works of the Great Public 
building under my charge that it would be necessary to employ artists in 
filling up the outlines I have sketched. Fields for pictures, niches ir pediments 
for statues have been liberally provided. 

What is needed here is an artist capable of occupying the field. 

I have been annoyed by pretenders by quacks by scoundrels (?) 

I have not received from any American artist a sketch or design for a 
picture fit to go into a county court house much less into the Capitol of the 
U States. From one American sculptor however I have received valuable aid 
& his recommendation (?) rests upon a firm foundation of able historical 
works executed for his country. 

I know Congress to be liberal & I doubt not that a good artist, located 
here, painting here & able to paint a picture when commissioned—instead of 
being obliged to go abroad to study his art before he fills his commission, 
would find himself fully occupied with works for the decoration of the Cap¬ 
itol. To such a one I should gladly lend all the aid in my power believing 
that my own reputation is benefited by whatever exalts the character for art 
of the building on which I have spent so much thought & labor. 

The session passes away—Members of committees are occupied and liable 
to be sick & thus business is delayed. If anything is to be done time is precious. 

Assuring you of a hearty welcome and all the aid in my power, for in 
your works I recognize a true artist’s power and genius, I am very truly and 
sincerely yours, 

M. C. Meigs. 


Five Sketchbooks of Emanuel Leutze / 173 


For a time, however, the deliberations of an Art Commission prevented any 
contracts being awarded, and after the demise of the Art Commission Congress 
itself forbade the expenditure of any money for paintings or sculpture before 
July 1, 1861. This state of affairs did not prevent Meigs and Leutze from making 
comprehensive plans for paintings in the Capitol. Meigs had evidently liked the 
subject “Emigration to the West,” and they may have agreed that it would be 
the theme of the first mural if and w r hen the embellishment of the building were 
allowed to proceed. 

In the spring of 1861 Leutze submitted to Meigs an oil sketch which pleased 
the latter immensely, and on July 9, 1861, the two entered into a contract calling 
for Leutze to paint “upon the western wall of the eastern stairs of the Capitol 
a picture on Emigration.” This sketch, if we are not mistaken, was based upon 
information gathered during the course of an undocumented trip which Leutze 
made to the West, probably in the summer of 1860. This trip was doubtless made 
on his ow T n initiative and in spite of the fact that he no longer had “a friend at 
court,” for Meigs had been relieved of his duties in connection with the exten¬ 
sions to the Capitol on November 1, 1859. In his book The National Capitol 
(1897), George C. Hazelton, Jr., states on page 196 that “. . . in disregard of the 
letter of the law, money had been advanced to the artist to enable him to visit 
the frontier for the purpose of studying its scenes and making his sketches from 
life.” Obviously, in 1860 Meigs was in no position to do this; and the record 
shows that no payment was made to Leutze until after he had submitted his 
sketch. This he seems to have done after February 27, 1861, when Meigs resumed 
the supervision of the extensions to the Capitol; it is, however, within the realm 
of possibility that the sketch was submitted before that date, since Meigs must 
have known for some time what was in the offing. The prospect for proceeding 
with the mural was good, and the money to pay for it would be available in the 
unspent balance of an appropriation as soon as the congressional ban had ex¬ 
pired. A payment to Leutze, whose trip to the West had probably been made at 
considerable cost, would not appear to have been outside Meigs’s authority. The 
beginning of the Civil War delayed the signing of the contract for about a 
month. 

The contract itself supports the idea of a trip to the West, made before 
Leutze submitted his oil sketch. It states that $3,500 already received “for com¬ 
pleting the design” is to be deducted from the contract price. 

The scant information which the writer has gleaned concerning Leutze’s 
movements in 1860 also supports the idea that he went West in that year. He is 


174 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


known to have planned to spend the summer at West Point, where he had spent 
the previous summer, but no evidence that he carried out this intention has been 
found. His family was in Europe, so he was free to travel, and he was undoubtedly 
anxious to submit a sketch which would bring him a commission. 

After he received the commission, Leutze made a trip to the West which is 
well authenticated. It resulted, however, in no important changes in the design; 
in essentials the mural is like the preliminary sketch. 

The three remaining books are also especially interesting for the evidence 
they provide regarding the early, undocumented trip to the West. 

The first sketch in the buff-colored book is useful in providing the approxi¬ 
mate date on which this book was put into use. About the end of 1859, Leutze 
was commissioned by Secretary of State Lewis Cass to design a medal which would 
be awarded to foreigners who had assisted in saving the lives of American sailors 
ship-wrecked in foreign parts. A sketch of the reverse side of this medal appears 
as the first item. Nearly all of the following page has been torn out, but enough 
remains to indicate that whatever was on it concerned the medal too—possibly 
the obverse, which would have been more interesting than the reverse. 

Having used the first pages of the third book at the end of the year 1859, 
Leutze seems to have set it aside in favor of the one just reviewed (no. 2), and 
later to have reverted to it. 

Following the medal, the objects portrayed pertain to the West. The first is 
a sketch of two figures, possibly emigrants, with their belongings beside them; 
they are followed by studies of cattle. The next few are more significant. One de¬ 
picts a rocky mass that is easily recognizable as the central feature in the Capitol 
mural. Another is a drawing of a mountainous landscape which resembles one 
of the distant mountains of the mural. Close after this is a sketch of a man who 
has scaled the rocks and is now waving his kerchief with one hand, while holding 
a flag in the other. Several pages are devoted to small western animals—a skunk, 
a coyote, a burrowing owl, and others. The animal studies, in particular, lead one 
to suppose that all these sketches were made in the West and, since some of them 
recur in the preliminary sketch given to Meigs, they must have been made on a 
trip which occurred before that of 1861. 

The fourth book (the album) contains many miscellaneous trifles which 
seem to have occupied Leutze’s mind, and therefore his pencil, while he was in 
the West. The most interesting of its contents depict western objects—a camp 
including two tents and horses, horses feeding at a covered wagon, stacked har¬ 
nesses, and legs and paws of animals of the region. Of much greater significance 


Five Sketchbooks of Emanuel Leutze / 175 



Above: The rocky mass which forms the 
central features of the mural in the Capitol. 
Above right: One of the distant mountainous 
scenes in the mural. 


for the support they give to a trip made in 1860 are five sketches of the West. 
These carry more weight in favor of such a trip than do the sketches in the third 
book, because two of them bear place names and therefore identify the region 
visited. They indicate that Leutze journeyed to the northwest boundary between 
the United States and Canada, the survey of which was just being completed. One 
of the two sketches on which the locations are noted bears the legend “Sierra 
Nevada, Cascade, near the Pacific coast. North.” It was made, therefore, near the 
western end of the boundary. The notation on the other is simply “Mt. Kish-e- 
nehn.” This mountain was found to be in the Rockies, hence near the eastern 
end of the boundary. 4 

In the course of his search for Mt. Kish-e-nehn, the writer learned that the 
boundary survey material in the National Archives includes sixty-six sketches 
made by James M. Alden, the artist of the expedition. It is a matter of interest 
to compare these with the sketches in Leutze’s book. Two of the Alden sketches 
have the same subjects as the two of Leutze’s just mentioned, but the drawings 
of the two artists differ in detail. Alden’s sketch (no. 46) of the valley of Kish-e- 
nehn Creek was made from quite a different position than was the Leutze sketch 
bearing the caption “Mt. Kish-e-nehn”; and Leutze’s sketch of the Cascade covers 
a much wider sweep of territory than does Alden’s sketch (no. 6), of the Langley 


176 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 




Sketch of a central figure in the mural, the 
man who has scaled the rocks. 


Buttes. (These are without doubt different names for the same feature.) Alden’s 
sketch no. 51 is limited to Mt. Kish-e-nehn and differs greatly in detail from the 
mountain represented in the left-hand portion of Leutze’s drawing. Three of 
Leutze’s sketches have no counterparts among Alden’s. 

One may ask why Leutze went to the Northwest to gather his information 
instead of the region he visited in 1861. There is reason to believe that Leutze 
was acquainted with A. D. Bache, Superintendent of the Coast Survey, whose 
office was involved in the survey of the western end of the boundary, where it 
became a tortuous line among islands. The boundary would have been a natural 
subject of conversation and the possibilities offered by the survey to anyone in¬ 
terested in the western terrain could scarcely have escaped Leutze. 

In the oil sketch which Leutze submitted to Meigs, mentioned above, the 
mountain mass in the right background has no counterpart in the sketchbooks. 
In the mural itself, however, the writer is inclined to think that the quite different 
mass represented there is a modified composite of two of the sketches—the left- 
hand part being based upon the sketch shown in one of the mural’s mountain 
scenes and the right-hand part on that shown in the Sierra Nevada drawing or 
the Rockies sketch, all illustrated in this article. The idea of a relationship be¬ 
tween sketch and mural is perhaps more acceptable in the case of the left-hand 
portion. If Leutze had his sketch of Mt. Kish-e-nehn in mind for the right-hand 
portion, he employed it with considerable artistic license. The reader may find 
that this portion resembles the Cascade more than Mt. Kish-e-nehn. The whole 
matter is extremely speculative, and what has been said here is to be regarded as 
nothing more than an attempt to see in the mural something more than the pure 
imagination of the artist. 

The last of the sketchbooks seems to have been used at two periods separated 
in time by more than a year. The first pages contain several sketches of heads of 
Indians which Leutze copied from the portraits by Carl Bodmer published in the 
Prince of Wied-Neuwied’s Travels in the Interior of North America, 1832—1834 . 5 
The motive which impelled him to make these copies is not evident. They are 
followed by a sketch of an ox bearing a yoke and then by a sketch of a man wield¬ 
ing an ax. In the oil sketch given to Meigs, Leutze used the latter figure, but he 
did not use it in the mural. The character of the sketches in this book then 
changes. The next one, a drawing of a tree, bears the legend “Fredericksburg, 
Apr. 4, 1861,” just a week before the beginning of the Civil War at Fort Sumter. 
Another is a sketch of a picturesque rail fence. Then follow a field of soldiers and 
a man in a Zouave uniform. There are also several sketches of horses, one bear- 


Five Sketchbooks of Emanuel Leutze / 177 



A drawing with Leutze’s notation: “Sierra 
Nevada, Cascade, near the Pacific coast, 
North.” 



ing the caption “old Bob,” and another sketch of a Conestoga wagon. 

The small portfolio contains sketches relating to the war. It was probably 
the artist S. R. Gifford, a member of the Seventh New York Regiment, who men¬ 
tions in an unsigned letter of May 17, 1861 (published in The Crayon for June 
1861, vol. 8, pp. 134-35), visits that Leutze made to Camp Cameron on Meridian 
Hill in Washington, D.C., where he was stationed, and a visit he himself made 
to Leutze’s studio in Washington. One of the sketches in the portfolio, dated May 
7, 1861, was made at Camp Cameron. Another pictures five soldiers occupied in 
various ways at desks. This was probably made between May 2 and 10, 1861, when 
several companies of Col. Elmer E. Ellsworth’s Fire Zouaves were quartered in 
the Capitol—some in the House of Representatives. At this time Leutze must have 
been a frequent visitor at the Capitol. Meigs probably had his preliminary “West¬ 
ward the Course of Empire Takes Its Way” under consideration, though no com¬ 
mission could be given without the approval of the secretary of war, who had 


178 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 






Westward the Course of Empire Takes Its Way, the mural by Emanuel Leutze which stands above 
the landing of the grand marble staircase leading from the west corridor of the Nation’s Capitol. 
(From a negative in the Office of the Architect of the Capitol.) 


Five Sketchbooks of Emanuel Leutze / 179 










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750 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 





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Above: Leutze’s sketch of Mt. Kish-e-nehn in the 
Rockies. 

Left: Probably Leutze’s sketch of some of Col. Elmer 
E. Ellsworth’s Fire Zouaves who were quartered at 
the Capitol in 1861. The drawing is in the portfolio. 




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more pressing matters than paintings to think about. On the occasion of one of 
these visits, Leutze may have made this sketch; the wall of the stairway on which 
he hoped to paint his mural was just across the corridor from the quarters of the 
Zouaves. 

The camp of these same Zouaves at Alexandria, named Camp Ellsworth after 
the colonel’s death on May 24, 1861, upon the invasion of Virginia by Union 
troops, is also the subject of a sketch. It was probably made about the end 
of that month. Another sketch bears the legend “de Trobriand’s Camp.” This was 
Fort Gaines, which was built on land belonging at the time to William D. C. 
Murdock and now to the American University. A tablet marks the approximate 
position of the fort, and therefore of the Leutze sketch. The leafless trees indicate 
that it was made in wdnter—the winter of 1861—62. 

Among the letters from General Hancock to Leutze are several which are 
of interest because they show the general’s desire to see Leutze selected to paint 
a picture representing the Battle of Gettysburg, in which he had played a role. 
General Hancock seems to have known that certain influential Pennsylvanians 
were thinking of having such a picture painted. He invited Leutze and the his¬ 
torian Bancroft to visit the battlefield with him in October 1865. Actually, the 
Pennsylvania legislature did not decide to take definite action until early in 1866, 
when it appointed a committee to select the artist. Notification of this step was 
received by Leutze from Gen. Samuel W. Crawford in a letter dated March 14, 
[1866] at Harrisburg, Pa., which reads: 

My dear Sir: 

The Legislature of Pennsylvania have authorized the painting of a battle 
scene of some part of the battle of Gettysburg. Your name has been men - 
tioned but the resolve of the Committee is to ask for battle scene studies from 
different artists & I noiv write to you asking that you may take advantage of 
this request. It is proposed to offer a prize of $500 for the successful picture. 

I write you now but I hope to be in your studio next week. 

Sincerely your friend 
S. W. CRAWFORD 


An effort to insure that the artist be a Pennsylvanian failed, but when the time 
came to award the commission the committee did select a native son—Peter F. 


Five Sketchbooks of Emanuel Leutze / 181 


Rothermel. Leutze seems to have made no effort to procure the commission. 

Another letter, dated June 21, 1866, was written by S. P. Hanscom, publisher 
of the National Republican, a Washington, D.C., newspaper. Leutze had traveled 
from New York to Washington to paint a portrait of Pres. Andrew Johnson and 
had been rebuffed by one of the president’s secretaries, Col. W. J. Moore, who 
told him that the president was busy. Upon his return to New York, Leutze di¬ 
rected an account of the episode to Mr. Hanscom, who evidently made a visit to 
the president to bring the matter to his attention. Hanscom’s reply to Leutze, 
written on “Executive Mansion’’ stationery, is most apologetic. It reads: 

My Dear LEUTZE 

Upon my return found your letter. Its contents very much impressed me 
and surprised the President still more, who desires me to say to you that he 
was not aware that you had been there, but on the contrary inquired once 
of Col. Moore why you did not call and was told that your things were there 
and that you had called once but that the President being busy was not no¬ 
tified. The President felt very much annoyed about the matter, scolded 
Moore severely and assures me if you are in the city to be sure and let him 
know. You will have no difficulty hereafter I can assure you. 

The President sat today at the request of Mr. Seward for the artist sent 
here by Switzerland. I have seen his rough [ sketch ] and it promises well. 

Let me know if you propose coming again and I will not go away. I 
would not have gone as it was had I supposed the matter was not completely 
arranged. 

J hope to see you soon here or in New York. 

Sincerely regretting your disappointment, which the President regrets 
on his own account, I remain. 

Very Truly 
S. P. HANSCOM 


The letters written by Frederick W. Seward, the son of the secretary of 
state, pertain primarily to the design for a monument which his father wished 
Leutze to make for the grave of his daughter. Leutze had already designed the 
monument for his wife. In the second of these letters, dated March 14, 1867, in 
which the son thanks Leutze for his design, there is reference to the artist’s health. 


182 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


Washington 
14th March, 1867 

My Dear LEUTZE 

I have received your letter of the 12th enclosing your beautiful design 
for the monument of my sister, for which we all thank you gratefully and 
sincerely. 

And we are very glad to thus learn from you that [you] are recovering 
from your late serious illness and threatened affection of the eyesight which 
had occasioned grave apprehensions—now happily relieved. 

Yours very truly, 
F. W. SEWARD 


Notice of an illness he was suffering early in 1867 had been published in the 
February 7 issue of the New York Evening Post. This letter makes it clear that 
the erysipelas which had afflicted him had been a serious affair and that his eye¬ 
sight had been endangered. 

In concluding this review, mention of the last drawing in the third book 
would seem fitting. It is a sketch of a portion of the steamship Teutonia and must 
have been made in May 1863. It was on this ship that, after finishing the mural 
in the Capitol, Leutze returned to Germany to bring his family to America. 
There can be no doubt that he thought the mural he had just finished was only 
the first of several he would do in the same building. He did not have the op¬ 
portunity to decorate even the side walls of the stairway tvhere he painted “West¬ 
ward Ho!” This picture was the beginning and end of the plans of Meigs and 
Leutze for murals in the Capitol. 


NOTES 1 Leutze arrived in Boston on January 30, 1859, and reached Washington approximately 

two weeks later, on February 16. 

2. This letter (scarcely decipherable in parts) and Leutze’s reply are in the files of the 
Office of the Architect of the Capitol. 

3. This is among the private letters of Montgomery C. Meigs in the Library’s Manuscript 
Division. 

4. Shown on sheet no. 1 of the boundary survey maps in the Cartographic Branch of the 
Office of Civil Archives at the National Archives. 

5. The original German work by Maximilian, Prince of Wied-Neuwied was published in 
two volumes at Coblenz in 1839-41. 


Five Sketchbooks of Emanuel Leutze / 183 


Caricatures and Cartoons: The 1848 Revolution in Europe 


by Renata V. Shaw 


The three prints discussed here are political cartoons from the German pre¬ 
revolutionary and revolutionary period of the 1840s. This was an age of reawaken¬ 
ing from the peaceful Biedermeier slumber of cozy domesticity following the wars 
of liberation of the Napoleonic era. Prussia was now openly challenging the su¬ 
premacy of Austria in central Europe. At the same time political forces within the 
country were stirring and demanding the right to participate in political affairs. 

In 1840 when Friedrich Wilhelm IV inherited the throne of Prussia from 
his aged father, the hopes and expectations of his restless subjects were concen¬ 
trated on the new monarch. The population yearned for a reign of liberalism, 
freedom, and German unity under the idealistic young sovereign. Friedrich Wil¬ 
helm, indeed, retracted the strict censorship laws of his predecessors. The new 
freedom of expression gave rise to a German satirical press based on the examples 
of Punch in London and La Caricature and Charivari in Paris. Political cartoons 
were also published separately as broadsides. These were either steel engravings 
or hand-colored lithographs, which had recently been introduced as an inexpen¬ 
sive and popular technique for quick print distribution. Three of these prints 
were recently received on exchange from a New York print dealer. 

The first two prints satirize the position of Friedrich Wilhelm IV on the 
political stage of Europe in a strikingly similar fashion. This resemblance may 
derive from a common source, or one of our prints may have influenced the other. 
A connection between the first lithograph printed in Magdeburg and the second 
in Konigsberg seems probable, although the two cities were for the period geo- 


184 


graphically far apart. 

Cities such as Cologne and Konigsberg expressed their yearnings for freedom 
more directly than Berlin. This may explain the anticipation which greeted the 
reign of Friedrich Wilhelm IV in the provincial towns. 

The first cartoon, a hand-colored crayon lithograph, was designed and litho¬ 
graphed by H. Schafer and published by Emil Baensch in Magdeburg. It shows 
a ruddy and energetic young man jumping up from a jerrybuilt wooden throne 
wielding a club, while various figures surrounding him retreat in poses of sur¬ 
prised indignation. Prince Metternich leaves the scene in disgust, while a Russian 
peasant is crouching in the background in an attitude of respectful supplication. 
Italy is shown as a soldier grinding away on his street organ. France in uniform 
(with the gallic cock on his helmet) has been knocked over, and England, the 
bulldog, sneaks away from the scene. The Pope sits on his golden throne observing 
surreptitiously the rise of the new Protestant king. 

This cartoon includes a great many additional allusions to the shift of polit¬ 
ical power in Europe. Friedrich Wilhelm IV appears in the guise of a clumsy 
peasant boy, “der deutsche Michel” (a folklore figure of the time), who tramples 
on a family tree with his stocking cap at his feet. The tree apparently signifies the 
decline of the ancient Hapsburg dynasty and the ascent of the Hohenzollern fam¬ 
ily. The pouch of 50,000 talers in the king’s pocket had been pledged by him for 
the finishing of Cologne Cathedral, a project undertaken at his initiative not for 
religious reasons but as a gesture of common effort of the German states symbol¬ 
izing a new patriotic unity. The map of these German states is printed on Fried¬ 
rich Wilhelm’s shirtfront and the Prussian eagle is embossed on his boots. This 
seems to indicate that Prussia is now ready to take over leadership in the German 
states. 

The second cartoon, a black-and-white pen lithograph published by W. 
Winckler of Konigsberg, expands the idea expressed in the Magdeburg drawing. 
Friedrich Wilhelm IV, again depicted as “der deutsche Michel,” is standing in 
front of his homemade wooden throne swinging a heavy club at representatives 
of neighboring states. He steps on Metternich, who is lying on his back with his 
feet in the air, a torn Hapsburg family tree underneath him. The Russian serf 
recoils from the threat of a blow, the Pope abandons his throne and flees to the 
Castel Sant’ Angelo, the Italian soldier drops his sword, the Frenchman, hit by a 
blow, loses his kepi, while the English bulldog is sneering at the Prussian 
monarch. Again Friedrich Wilhelm has tossed off his cap, but here his dreams 
for the future tumble forth: the building of Cologne Cathedral is advancing, 

Caricatures and Cartoons: The 1848 Revolution in Europe \ 185 


The hand-colored crayon lithograph 
by H. Schafer, published by Emil 
Baensch in Magdeburg. 



. HaatMHty, tfr/ay /»» A'/m*/ /1ar*+n" 


Father Rhine has been captured and is being held by Prussian troops while the 
King and Queen of Prussia receive a joyous welcome from their enthusiastic sub¬ 
jects. The Prussian clergy, Prussian bureaucracy, and the Hohenzollern family 
are taking a new place in the sun. 

Friedrich Wilhelm IV has one arm inside the sleeve of his coat as if on the 


186 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 



The black-and-white pen lithograph 
published by W. Winckler of 
Konigsberg, expands the idea pre¬ 
sented in the cartoon. 



verge of taking over control of German leadership. His shirtfront bears a map 
with the member states of the German confederation numbered on it. The pouch 
containing 50,000 talers is at the king’s feet as a reminder of the spirit of German 
unity and power which he expected to complete the building of Cologne Cathe¬ 
dral. 


Caricatures and Cartoons: The 1848 Revolution in Europe / 187 
















Published a hundred years before the date at the 
bottom, this hand-colored cartoon by an anonymous 
artist shows France and Germany clasping hands across 
the border, and the middle class has over-thrown 
both ecclesiastic and political rulers. 


188 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 








Both of these undated cartoons must have been created at the beginning of 
the reign of Friedrich Wilhelm IV because they show him as a forceful leader of 
Germany, a role he never succeeded in playing. His rule was characterized by an 
unrealistic reactionary spirit harking back to the supposedly idyllic Middle Ages. 
In 1847 he refused to grant his people the constitution promised them in 1815 
by his father, because he could not “allow a scribbled sheet of paper to intervene 
like a second Providence between our God in Heaven and this land of ours, to 
rule us by paragraphs and oust our time-honoured and sacred fidelity to each 
other.” 1 He kept a deaf ear to the people and continued to follow his own auto¬ 
cratic ideals. The obtuse nature of the king led to political unrest in his country 
and explains the spontaneous riots of 1848 sparked by the overthrow of Louis 
Philippe in France. 

Our third cartoon is a political phophecy, hence the caption 1942. The at¬ 
tack on the established power of 1842, monarchy and church, is so strong that 
neither the artist nor the publisher reveals his name. 

In this hand-colored cartoon Friedrich Wilhelm IV is no longer the central 
figure. “Der deutsche Michel,” the robust peasant, now transformed into a per¬ 
sonification of the German nation, is proudly brandishing a club sprouting buds 
of fresh oak leaves. He grabs the outstretched hand of France extended to him 
across the border. Father Rhine sits peacefully on the river bank where old con¬ 
flicts are forgotten in the revolutionary fervor. In the background young men, 
celebrating the victory of the bourgeoisie over the local princes, are dancing joy¬ 
fully around a May tree decorated with green wreaths. Three men are hacking 
away at Cologne Cathedral—to them a symbol of the reactionary spirit of all 
churches. The church is on fire, stone slabs with carved portraits of bishops lie 
abandoned on the ground. Not only the sovereign princes but also the ecclesiatic 
hierarchy dominated by the nobility are being forcefully overthrown by the newly 
triumphant middle class. 

The Library of Congress has a vast collection of political caricatures and 
cartoons mainly covering the history of the United States, England, and France. 
These three German cartoons illustrate turning points in European history not 
previously covered by the collection of documentary prints. 


NOTE 


1. J. G. Legge, Rhyme and Revolution in Germany (London: 1918), p. 150. 


Caricatures and Cartoons: The 1848 Revolution in Europe / 189 


Historical Prints: Lithographed Letterheads 


by Milton Kaplan 


“Dear Mother: The above picture is a very good view of the city [San Francisco] 
at the present time.” 

So begins a letter dated April 28, 1854, which is reproduced in Harry 7’. 
Peters’s California on Stone (New York: Doubleday, Doran, 1935). The letter 
represents an important group of nineteenth-century American prints—the illus¬ 
trated letter paper or letterhead, lithographed or engraved with views which 
often are the only ones of a locality or of an event. Peters referred to them as 
the “godparents of the illustrated postal card of today.” 

Although they seem to have been printed in fairly large numbers during the 
middle decades of the nineteenth century—Peters listed 109 different sheets in 
California on Stone and in his America on Stone, 1931, he observed that “the East 
was literally flooded with myriads of these lithographic letterheads”—their very 
nature seems to have precluded the survival of any substantial quantity. Once 
read, the letters were thrown away. Relatively few exist today and most of them 
are to be found in the various manuscript collections throughout the United 
States. Unused letterheads are even rarer. This past year the division was fortu¬ 
nate in acquiring nine to add to our small but growing collection which now 
contains the following examples: 

Bankettsaal und Gabentempel des dritten Amerikanischen Bundes- 

Schiessens, New York, 27. Juni bis 6. Juli. Lithograph by Charles Magnus. 

Bowling Green. Lithograph by Charles Magnus. 


190 


Letterheads 


1. Washington, D.C. Engraving by Charles 
Magnus & Co. 

2. Norfolk, Portsmouth, Va. Lithograph by 
Charles Magnus. 

3. Bankettsaal und Gabentempel des dritten 
Amerikanischen Bundes—Schiessens, New York, 
27 Juni bis 6 Juli. Lithograph by Charles 
Magnus. 

4. United States Firemen. Engraving by 
Charles Magnus & Co. 



Historical Prints: Lithographed Letterheads / 191 












A representation of the great storm at Providence, September 23, 1815. Engraving by James Kidder, 1816. 

Kingston, Lake Ontario. Engraving by Charles Magnus & Co. 

Louisville, Ky. Engraving by Charles Magnus 8c Co. 

Lowell, Mass. Woodcut by Franklin Hedge, 1848. 

Norfolk, Portsmouth, Va. Lithograph by Charles Magnus. 

Rochester, Engraving by Charles Magnus. 

Syracuse, N.Y. Engraving by Capewell 8c Kimmel. 

Toledo, Ohio. Engraving by Charles Magnus 8c Co. 

Troy, N.Y. Engraving by Charles Magnus 8c Co. 

The 25th of April in New York. Lithograph by Charles Magnus, 1865. 


192 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 





The funeral of Abraham Lincoln. 

Washington, D.C. Engraving by Charles Magnus 8c Co. This view is an 
almost exact copy of a large folio lithograph “Washington, D. C., with pro¬ 
jected improvements,” copyrighted by Smith & Jenkins in 1852. Did Magnus 
8c Co. arrange with Smith 8c Jenkins to use the print, or was it outright 
piracy? 

The cities of these letterheads are always shown in their most tranquil 
aspect. In contrast, a very rare engraving just acquired is possibly the first Ameri¬ 
can print depicting a natural calamity. On September 23, 1815, a violent storm 
struck Providence, R.I. In a burst of prose which probably matched the intensity 
of the storm, the Rhode Island American and General Advertiser, September 26, 
1815, commented: 

Whether we consider the violence of the late storm, or the desolation 
which ensued, we do not incur the hazard of contradiction in pronouncing 
it the most sublime and tremendous elemental strife that has been witnessed 
for centuries by the inhabitants of this town. It seemed as if He, who “rides 
the whirlwind and directs the storm” had permitted sea and air to combine 
their strength and terror to give us an impressive assurance of His power, 
to humble our pride and to discipline our affections. . . . Had there lived a 
being whose bosom was tenanted by misanthropic feelings, he could have 
ascended some lofty hill, and apostrophized with the exultation of a demon 
the sublime desolation which surrounded him—but he who inherits the sensi¬ 
bilities or the weaknesses of our nature, must have viewed, with revolting 
feelings, “the wild and wasteful scene.” 

On June 13, 1916, the following announcement appeared in the Boston In¬ 
dependent Chronicle: 

Bowen’s Phoenix Museum, will commence at Franklin Hall . . . June 
13. . . . The collection consists of a great variety of the ingenuous [sic] works 
of art . . . among which are . . . large and elegant paintings, executed by J. 
Kidder, from correct drawings, taken from nature. First view—a very natural 
representation of the great storm at Providence, September 23, 1815. . . . This 
painting was taken on the spot, a short time after the storm, from the ap¬ 
pearance of the many remaining objects of ruin, and, from information of 


Historical Prints: Lithographed Letterheads / 193 



facts, given by some of the most intelligent and respectable gentlemen in 
Providence, who were witnesses to this distressing event. 

James Kidder is described in The New York Historical Society’s Dictionary 
of Artists in America (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1957, p. 369) as a 
“landscape artist, engraver, and aquatintist of Boston.” Little is known of his 
career except that he was active in the 1830s and produced an aquatint of Boston 
Common which was published in the Polyanthus for June 1813. 

Kidder’s painting of the great storm was w T ell received by the public not only 
in Boston but later that same year in Providence. The November 9, 1816, issue of 
the Providence Gazette and Country Journal noted: 

The following remarks, from the Newport Republican, coincide so ex¬ 
actly with our own sentiments, that we cannot but give them an insertion: 
“A correspondent, who last week visited the Museum of Messrs. Bowen and 
Kidder, at Providence, recommends it in the warmest terms, to public pa¬ 
tronage. He speaks of the grand panoramic view of the great storm in Prov¬ 
idence, as a proud specimen of American genius, in which the awful effects 
of that terrible hurricane, are speaking delineated with a bold hand.” 

The success of the painting probably prompted Daniel Bowen and James 
Kidder to publish an engraving of it so that copies would be available to the pub¬ 
lic. The engraving was copyrighted October 8, 1816, and priced to sell at one 
dollar. In the October 8, 1816, issue of the New England Palladium Commercial 
Advertiser, there appeared the following: 

Messrs. Bowen 8c Kidder have completed a very elegant print of the great 
storm at Providence, on Sept. last. It does honor to the genius of Mr. Kidder, 
who designed and executed the same; and binds another wreath of laurel on 
the brows of our native artists. A few copies only of this admirable print are 
as yet struck off, which are left for examination. 

This engraving seems to be an unlisted one. Neither the Old Print Shop nor 
the Kennedy Galleries, both major dealers in New York City, has had the print 
in stock according to their records. We have located only one other proof, that 
in the collection of the Rhode Island Historical Society, Providence. 


194 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


Japanese Picture Scrolls of the First Americans in Japan 


by Renata V. Shaw 


Within the last year several scrolls and other materials relating mainly to Com¬ 
modore Matthew C. Perry’s expedition to Japan in 1853-54 were transferred to 
the Prints and Photographs Division from the Manuscript Division, where they 
had been since their purchase in 1926 from a Minneapolis dealer. It has thus 
been possible for the first time to study them as pictorial materials. The Prints 
and Photographs Division was also fortunate in being able to have translations 
made of the Japanese text appearing with the illustrations. While many ques¬ 
tions remain as to the origin of the drawings, the results of this first attempt to 
describe them are presented in this article. 

In the middle of the nineteenth century Japan had been shut off from the 
Western world for over two hundred years. The only exception to this policy of 
exclusion was a small enclave of Dutch merchants allowed to remain in Nagasaki. 
The Dutch traders functioned as intermediaries between Japan and the Western 
world and taught the Japanese the rudiments of Western science and technology. 
Several nations had tried to approach Japan in order to start trade negotiations, 
but all foreign ships had been driven off by the Japanese, who were determined 
not to open their country to foreign powers or revolutionary ideas. 

When Commodore Perry in 1853 succeeded in bringing his boats to the for¬ 
bidden coast and actually stepped on the soil of Japan, the audacity of his venture 
created a tremendous upheaval in the country. He had been sent with a letter 
from President Fillmore, which suggested that ports shoujd be opened for trade 
between the two countries. The Japanese suspected, however, that the arrival of 

t 


195 



Commodore Perry’s first landing at Kurihama 
in 1853 was recorded by Japanese observers 
on scrolls like this, which, typical of oriental 
writings, reads from right to left. 




the U.S. Navy, albeit with only four ships, meant an attempt to attack and con¬ 
quer the islands. But the commodore, who had studied the customs and traditions 
of the Far East as thoroughly as it was possible at this period, succeeded by firm¬ 
ness, inscrutability, and impressive pomp to break the resistance of the Japanese. 

The emperor of Japan, whose court was still in Kyoto, had lost his sov¬ 
ereignty and become a figurehead. The executive power had been seized by the 
Tokugawa Shogunate, which had its seat in Edo, the city today known as Tokyo. 
This political situation was successfully concealed from foreign observers, who 
believed that they had to deal with the emperor as the supreme ruler of the 
country. The shogun and his closest advisers kept themselves carefully hidden 
in Edo. They chose the governor and vice-governor of Uraga, as their emissaries 
to deal with Perry and named them for the occasion Toda, “Lord of Idzu,” and 
Ido, “Lord of Iwami.” 

The two noblemen were given careful instructions from Edo to try to stall 
the Americans and discourage them from any hope of meeting the emperor. But 
the more evasive the Japanese became, the more pressing became the demands 
of the Americans, who threatened to take their ships all the way to Edo harbor 
if their requests were not granted. 


196 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


































After many discussions between the representatives of Perry and those of the 
shogun, July 14, 1853, was finally agreed upon for Commodore Perry’s landing 
and delivery of President Fillmore’s letter to the Japanese emperor. This first 
meeting was carefully planned and ended in a way which saved the honor of 
both parties. 

During the brief stay of the American ships in July 1853 and again during 
the four and a half months of 1854 that they were in Japanese waters, the 
American visitors were under constant close observation by the Japanese. Not 
only was every move they made reported to the governor of the province, but 
artists were sent to the harbor to make sketches of the invading barbarians and 
their boats. 


The first approach to the Susquehanna from the Shore was that of a 
boat at early sunrise next morning (July 9th, 1853), apparently containing 
a corps of artists, who came close to the ship’s side, but making no attempt 
to come on board, busied themselves in taking sketches of the strange 
vessels. 1 


Japanese Picture Scrolls of the First Americans in Japan j 197 








The sketches served two purposes. The first was to create a lasting historical 
record for the archives, and the second was to give accurate information to the 
shogun in Edo of the invaders and their military equipment. 


PERRY’S FIRST LANDING 


Three of the scrolls and parts of a large sketchbook and of a small printed book 
relate to the first landing of Commodore Perry at Kurihama in 1853. 

The identical choice of subject matter as well as a similar succession of 
events shown on the scrolls proves that although several artists were commis¬ 
sioned to portray the coming of the barbarians, many of the picture scrolls 
known today are partially or wholly copied from the first authorized sketches of 
eyewitnesses. 

Only a few of the drawings are signed. It is known that Sadahide, a master 
of the popular woodcut, was employed by the shogunate in an official capacity 
at other times, and he may therefore also have made sketches of the Perry expedi¬ 
tion by official appointment. None of the drawings on the Library’s scrolls, 
however, can definitely be attributed to him. 


Susquehanna Scroll 

This sketch was done by a new friend of mine, Taguchi Shumpei, who 
accompanied the Lord of Shimosone to Uraga and saw the ships on the 
spot; when he asked where the ships came from, he was told in our country’s 
language that the ships carried an envoy sent by the President of America 
to Edo; Shumpei told this to me yesterday, the 9th, on his return from 
Uraga. 2 

The scroll of the two steamers shows that the draftsman was very much im¬ 
pressed with the black smoke coming out of the chimney, the paddle wheels, and 
the American ensign flying at the stern with “about 30 white crests on navy blue 
background, said to be the number of the states.” The U.S. Navy jack at the 


The scroll showing the steamships Susquehanna and Mississippi bears the fol¬ 
lowing revealing note: 


198 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 



Above: The Susquehanna. 

Right: Commodore Perry. This portrait is from a 
printed Japanese book that was acquired with the 
scrolls. 


bow is also properly represented as well as Perry’s command pennant on the 
masthead. The point of the drawing is not phtographic accuracy so much as it 
is an attempt to quickly record the first impression made by the “black ships.” 



Machinery Scroll 


The second scroll begins also with illustrations of two steamers, probably the 
Susquehanna and the Mississippi. The picture of the first ship (at right) does 
not show its construction accurately, but the pennants are gay—white, green, and 
red—and the rope ladders form an attractive pattern against the masts. Reddish 
smoke is belching from the smokestack. The total impression of this paddle 
wheeler is gay and decorative and shows the hand of a competent painter. The 


Japanese Picture Scrolls of the First Americans in Japan / 199 







The paddle wheel from the machinery scroll. second steamer has obviously been copied from the first and painted by a much 

less accomplished artist, perhaps an apprentice. The color is flatter and the 
design altogether less convincing. 

The most interesting part of this scroll, however, is the third panel, which 
purports to show the paddle wheel and its connected machinery. Intended to be 
a “technical drawing,” it does not really explain the workings of a steam vessel, 
but it shows us the passionate interest with which the Japanese studied every 
detail of the black ships. 

The fourth panel is devoted to American hats, caps, weapons, and musical 
instruments. This is one of five versions of these designs in our scrolls, differing 
only in detail and pointing to their common origin. 


Large Scroll of the First Landing 


This scroll contains a picture series that might be called “Commodore Perry’s 
First Landing at Kurihama, 1853.” It is made up of the following nine scenes: 


200 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


























































Two American marines and one of the two 
officers shown on the large scroll. 


1) two American marines and two officers; 2) headgear of marines and naval 
officers; 3) musical instruments used by the Americans; 4) two small surveying 
boats, one with a canvas roof; 5) steamboat Susquehanna with commodore’s 
quarters marked; 6) American troops parading at Kurihama with Perry; 7) 
Japanese defense forces arriving carrying banners; 8) reception hall erected at 
Kurihama; 9) Kurihama harbor with American boats anchored on the bay. 

Another version of these same scenes appears in the large sketchbook, de¬ 
scribed below, and still another in a scroll in the New York Public Library. 3 
Thus we can speak of a real iconography of the first landing. All of these scrolls 
may have been copied almost simultaneously from the government-sponsored 
original versions, which today are in the Tokyo University Historiographical 
Institute. There was, of course, a great popular demand for the scrolls. In specu¬ 
lating on the order in which they were produced, we have to consider the skill 
of the individual draftsman and the speed with which he was forced to finish 
his copy. 

It is obviously more than coincidence that the sequence of the nine scenes 
in the Library of Congress scroll is the same as that of the New York Public 
Library scroll. The New York scroll is superior in execution, and watercolor has 
been applied to the brush drawing of each scene. The Kurihama harbor picture 
in that scroll shows correct use of Western perspective and true understanding 
of the placement of buildings to achieve a three-dimensional effect. 

The draftsman of the scroll at the Library of Congress has done his best 
to follow a more sophisticated model. He has succeeded in the simpler scenes, 
but in copying the “harbor of Kurihama from a bird’s-eye view,” he does not 
quite succeed in mastering the technique of Western perspective and lets his 
houses and boats follow the contours of the coastline. 

The captions on both scrolls are placed in similar positions and the word¬ 
ing is nearly identical. It is amusing to see how the American troops have been 
drawn with caps, swords, and bayonets clearly shown, where the Japanese con¬ 
tingent is shown as a succession of circles instead of heads and bodies. Pennants 
and banners identify Toda, “Lord of Idzu,” and Ido, “Lord of Iwami.” The 
Japanese public, for whom these scrolls were intended, was well enough 
acquainted with their own lords and their attendants and were not interested 
in knowing how these men were dressed. It was sufficient to have pennants to 
mark their places in the procession and to show the respective rank and respon¬ 
sibility of the participants. Unfortunately, the American viewer is unable to 
fill in the missing details from his imagination. 


Japanese Picture Scrolls of the First Americans in Japan / 201 







Japanese troops, at the left, and American 
troops at Kurihama. 


A prominent feature of the drawing of the reception hall is the large screen 
in the background that shows the emblems of Japanese negotiators and other 
officials. The placement of the troops is again indicated without much detail. 
The drawing on the Library’s scroll may be based on an original sketch made 
from a boat in the harbor. 

The first scenes on this scroll, at the right, are in full color, but the last 
four have only a few touches of red color added to the basic brush drawing. For 
some reason the artist did not finish coloring them. The scroll in the Library of 
Congress measures 11 feet 7 inches as compared to the 13 feet 514 inches of the 
other, but both are about 11 inches high. 


Large Sketchbook While not in scroll form today, the drawings pasted in this sketchbook were once 

part of several scrolls. They are not all by the same hand, nor are they limited 
to the first landing or even to the Perry expedition, but they depict the first 
official contacts between Americans and Japanese. The drawings that relate 
to the landing at Kurihama in July 1853 are described here; the other contents 


202 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 










The reception hall at Kurihama 
on the large scroll. 


as depicted 


of the sketchbook are mentioned later in connection with the events to which 
they relate. 

After a page of text that unaccountably relates to Perry’s second landing, 
page 2 of the sketchbook shows the floor plan of the “Resting place of the 
Defense Forces,” located in the boat house of the Ii clan at Kurihama. It is 
sketched with quick brush strokes, leading to the inference that it was made at 
or about the time of the 1853 landing. The same page includes thoroughly cap¬ 
tioned but quickly executed black and white drawings of American caps and 
hats. The Japanese artist has emphasized the distinction between officers’ hats 
and soldiers’ hats, and the caption describes the eagle on the officer’s hat as “like 
a single-petaled peony or a bird.” 

A rough sketch of Edo Bay follows on page 3. Its Japanese caption may be 
translated “Forts of local lords; the number of guns according to an old map; 
not to be deemed accurate.” On the map is traced the route of Perry’s second 
ship, the Mississippi, which he had dispatched on a surveying trip in the Bay 









Japanese Picture Scrolls of the First Americans in Japan / 203 


























of Edo to make a show of force. Behind their fortifications on shore the Japanese 
were no doubt watching every move the Americans made. So many Japanese 
defense vessels surrounded the Mississippi and the smaller surveying boats that 
they returned to their original anchorage. 

On page 4 is a map of the Japanese defenses closer to the city of Edo. The 
shore was protected by strategically placed forts in the sea, and the map gives 
distances between the individual forts and the forts and shore. Perry would no 
doubt have been delighted to have had a copy even of this crude map, for he 
had arrived on the Japanese coast without accurate maps of the area. The Japa¬ 
nese were reluctant to inform him of the names of the towns he passed, let alone 
help him navigate the waters. 

The drawing on page 5, partially map and partially bird’s-eye view, shows 
the scene at Kurihama when Perry came ashore to deliver the president’s letter. 
By the use of cloth screens on either side of the pavilion and the Japanese text, 
the artist shows that 800 men of the Kawagoe clan were stationed on the left 
and 2,000 men under the Lord of Ii on the right. At the shore line is the in¬ 
scription “400 barbarians land in a drill; even the soldiers carry a pistol each 
at waist.” This view helps to explain the close-up views, appearing in many of 
the existing scrolls, of the reception hall with the Japanese forces lined up to 
meet the great commodore. 

The map on page 6 also shows the first landing site of Kurihama with the 
American boats anchored on the bay and the Japanese defense positions clearly 
marked. 

Included in the sketchbook is what appears to be a complete, though small, 
scroll depicting Commodore Perry’s first landing at Kurihama. It contains the 
same nine scenes that appear in the other first landing scrolls discussed above, 
but they were not mounted in the sketchbook in the same order. As this scroll 
is only bVz inches high, the paper could easily have been rolled up and the 
sketches made on the actual scene. On the other hand, it might have been copied 
from some of the other versions. It bears evidence of having been done hastily, 
and the coloring has not been finished. 

As pure reportage, however, the small scroll gives a good pictorial account 
of the momentous impression made by the landing invaders. The physical 
aspects of the uniforms, swords, and landing cutters with steering chains and 
anchors naturally evoked the greatest curiosity. The American studying the 
scroll today is more interested in the pavilion and the distribution of the defense 
troops around the reception hall in the harbor. 


204 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 





Map of Edo Bay, from page 6 of the large sketchbook. 


Japanese Picture Scrolls of the First Americans in Japan / 205 









The familiar weapons, musical instruments, 
and hats as they appeared in the printed 
volume. 


The Scrolls in Printed Form 



The Library is fortunate to have acquired along with the scrolls a small printed 
book that utilizes the drawings, but in a more finished and detailed form. En¬ 
titled Ikoku Ochiba Kago (A Basket of Fallen Leaves from Abroad), it was 
written by Miki Kosai and published by Ingakudo, probably soon after Perry 
negotiated the treaty with the Japanese. After a discussion of world geography 
and the position of the Japanese Islands in relation to North America, the 
author presents a map of that continent and then a map of Edo Bay with the 
forts of defense and the distances from shore to shore clearly marked. He con¬ 
tinues with a list of Japanese defense encampments and the names of local lords 
assigned to man the fortifications. 


206 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 





















Among the illustrations are several that are familiar because of their ap¬ 
pearance on the “first landing” scrolls: woodcuts of two American marines and 
two officers, the hats and caps, the musical instruments, and the woodcut of the 
Susquehanna, a lively and colorful double-page illustration. A small detail, the 
head of an eagle that serves as the figurehead of the ship, appears in the wood- 
cut in a form similar to that on the small scroll in the sketchbook. 


THE SECOND LANDING 


The second widely illustrated incident of the Perry story is the “second land¬ 
ing,” which took place at Yokohama on March 8, 1954. Commodore Perry had 
spent the winter in Chinese waters. He decided to return to Japan to force an 
answer to President Fillmore’s letter somewhat earlier than he had planned, 
before any of the interested European nations could disturb his plans by profit¬ 
ing from his initial friendly contact with the Japanese. Again he encountered 
much resistance and evasion from representatives of the Shogun, but with the 
help of his old ruse of moving his fleet closer to Edo, he forced the Japanese 
into agreeing to a meeting place at Yokohama. 

Here on March 8, 1854, Perry came ashore with great ceremony and re¬ 
ceived a reply to the president’s letter. In the days that followed presents were 
exchanged between the Americans and the Japanese, and negotiations were 
carried on that led to the signing of a treaty on March 31. 


The Lexington, Saratoga, and 
Macedonian Scroll 


The Library’s first scroll of the second landing starts with two illustrations of 
sailboats captioned “Photograph of American Ships.” The artist obviously had 
access to pictures taken by the American official photographer. The proportions 
of these two boats are more in keeping with the true proportions of sailboats 
and, except for the American flag and pennants, the coloring is confined to 
black ink with white highlights. The front view of the Saratoga, next on the 
scroll, may also have been copied from a photograph, because the foreshortening 
is very convincing. 

The fourth drawing shows the Macedonian firing a salute in honor of Com- 
Japanese Picture Scrolls of the First Americans in Japan j 207 



The sailboat Saratoga on a scroll depicting 
Perry’s return trip to Japan in 1854. 


The Macedonian, firing a salute in honor of 
Commodore Perry. 


208 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 















The American Doll Scroll 


modore Perry. The corvette is half hidden in dramatic clouds of billowing 
smoke—part of the spectacle carefully planned to impress the waiting Japanese 
commissioners. The story continues with the landing of twenty-seven launches 
firing salutes from the guns mounted in their bows. Here again the illustration 
rises to the level of exciting reportage, with flags waving in the wind and marines 
loading the guns almost hidden in gray clouds of smoke. 

The last four panels of this scroll are not by the same draftsman. They con¬ 
sist of pictures of a section of a vessel’s hull, an iron anchor, and a water barrel 
drawn in a matter-of-fact way, as if for inclusion in an encyclopedia. The last 
panel, however, is a charming little vignette of a straw roof protecting one of 
the American presents to the emperor. The caption reads, “neither its content 
nor its use is known.’’ 


The second scroll of the Yokohama landing begins with a puzzling drawing of 
an American doll labeled, in English, “an owner wanted.” The original sketch, 
made at the reception hall on March 8, 1854, by an anonymous Japanese artist, 
is in the Tokyo University Historiographical Institute. As the doll was not listed 
in the official narrative as a gift for the emperor, it may have been intended as 
a gift for a Japanese child. 

In his published account Perry told about the Japanese habit of making 
sketches of everything observed in the American camp: 4 

They [the Japanese] were not contented with merely observing with 
their eyes, but were constantly taking out their writing materials, their 
mulberry-bark paper, and their Indian ink and hair pencils, which they 
always carried in a pocket within the left breast of their loose robes, and 
making notes and sketches. The Japanese had all apparently a strong pic¬ 
torial taste, and looked with great delight upon the engravings and pictures 
which were shown them, but their own performances appeared exceedingly 
rude and unartistic. Every man, however, seemed anxious to try his skill at 
drawing, and they were constantly taking the portraits of the Americans, 
and sketches of the various articles that appeared curious to them, with a 
result, which, however satisfactory it might have been to the artist (and it 
must be conceded they exhibited no little exultation), was far from showing 


Japanese Picture Scrolls of the First Americans in Japan / 209 



The American doll. 


any encouraging advance in art. It should, however, be remarked that the 
artists were not professional. 


Today we do not judge the artistic abilities of these anonymous Japanese 
artists as severely as the Americans of a hundred years ago did. The scrolls are 
regarded as a form of lively folk art and appreciated as such. How much poorer 
would our knowledge of the American impact on Japan be without these spon¬ 
taneous pictorial documents! The choice of subject matter alone gives us an 
idea of the features which excited the Japanese the most. 

The doll scroll continues its story with a picture of the landing boats filled 
with marines armed with pistols and bayonets. The Commodore’s white boat is 
decorated with a gold star. The artist took obvious delight in retelling the land¬ 
ing story. He spent a great deal of effort in painting the flagship Powhatan and 
decorating its paddle wheel with gold and green ornaments. The steamboat 
panel is followed by an illustration of marines marching in single file with their 
rifles and led by four musicians and two officers with huge epaulets. The scroll 
continues with bust portraits of Commodore Perry and Commander Adams. 
These portraits were a popular theme among the second landing scrolls, and 
there are several examples in the Library’s collection. Double portraits of Com¬ 
modore Perry and his son, as well as Commander Adams and his son, were also 
popular. These illustrations sometimes achieved almost photographic likeness, 
but sometimes they deteriorated into simple views of fearsome-looking hirsute 
barbarians. This particular scroll includes poorly drawn portraits where no at¬ 
tempt at characterization is evident. 

The scroll ends with a jolly illustration of a bearded marine smoking a 
yellow pipe. A caption in American handwriting and large block letters at¬ 
tempts to show the Japanese a sample of the Americans’ language, but it con¬ 
veys no meaning to us. 

This scroll is the work of one artist. It is consistent in style and full of 
naive wonder at the strange things taking place in Yokohama. It must have once 
been a favorite souvenir of a visitor to that town. 


Locomotive, Tender, and 
Passenger Car 


On March 13, 1854, the American presents were carried from the ships and the 
small ones were laid out in the main hall of the reception center. The gift 


210 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 




Two more panels from the doll scroll: a 
marine at ease, smoking his pipe, and a 
column of marines on parade during the 
negotiations at Yokohama. 


that excited the greatest curiosity and wonder was a miniature train with its 
own circular track, which was set up on a piece of level ground. 

The delicately painted sketch of the train includes enough details to con¬ 
vince us that the artist had seen the actual gift. As the cars are shown in per¬ 
spective from above and the side, the artist has added the trade name “norris 
works 1853” to the edge of the scroll so that the front view will not be missed. 
The drawing is so competent that it was probably executed by a professional 
artist. Of all the scrolls under discussion here, it is the closest to being a truly 
finished illustration. The colors are not necessarily those of the original train, 
but they create a pleasant composition and add life to the otherwise technical 
subject. 


xewKt 




Japanese Picture Scrolls of the First Americans in Japan / 211 















Small Hand-Painted Book The Library also has a small handmade booklet, damaged by bookworms, which 

includes full-color miniature paintings with touches of gold, done in a delicate 
style with hairline outlines in black ink. Each page is enclosed in a gray painted 
frame. The illustrations are gay and informal as if intended for a children’s 
book. The first page shows a Navy band complete with drummer boy and young 
flutist marching to the tune of The Star-Spangled Banner. The artist has taken 
great delight in accurately copying the true colors of the uniforms, the red cock 
feathers of the officer’s hat, the golden epaulets, and the buttons. Space was 
left for a caption, but the text was not inserted, so that we have to interpret the 
picture from our knowledge of the second landing. 

We know from the published account that the marines and the seamen 
were drawn up to form an honor guard when Commodore Perry stepped from 
his barge. A double-page illustration shows some of them in stiff, tight ranks led 
by two officers. The composition is a diagonal slash across two pages in a non- 
symmetric arrangement. Some shading has been used in the uniforms and a 
touch of flesh color added on the cheeks, but the background has been left 
empty. 

The next double page is devoted to a painting of five American officers, one 
of them carrying a black umbrella. It show the same informal Japanese composi¬ 
tion in which the figures seem to be arbitrarily arranged in space although the 
composition maintains a perfect balance. Each hair has been individually 


212 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 




















Left: The train would actually run, and 
although it was too small for the passengers to 
get inside, they sat on top of the car and rode 
merrily around the circular track. 



' 


ft 

* 


—,—- 


Japanese Picture Scrolls of the First Americans in Japan / 213 


























































Five American officers as shown in the hand-pointed book. 


214 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


j 








painted. Fierce whiskers give the men a determined look. The epaulets, which 
must have fascinated the artist, are much exaggerated compared to the rest of 
the uniforms. 

The flagship Powhatan is shown in such a way that a profile view and an 
end view can be seen simultaneously. This is a pictorial device that is common 
in Japanese art and is accepted as a traditional way of seeing objects. The masts 
of the Powhatan cut the frame of the illustration, which is not disturbing to the 
Japanese artist, who simply extended his drawing as far as his subject demanded. 
This freedom in design was adopted by Western artists only after a prolonged 
acquaintance with Japanese prints and their composition. 

The booklet ends with an illustration of a minstrel show presented as an 
entertainment on the Powhatan to a group of distinguished Japanese visitors. 
The actors were American sailors, who had improvised the musical program as 
a climax to a convivial dinner party. The Japanese were no more prepared to 
understand this entertainment than the Americans were to judge the fine points 
of the Japanese Sumo wrestlers, but they entered into the spirit of the per¬ 
formance and were carried away by the lively rhythms. 


Large Sketchbook 


In the first contacts between the Americans and the Japanese, the intense inter¬ 
est shown by each party toward the other was quite naturally heightened by the 
fact that each nation knew so little about life in the other. The explanations on 
the Japanese illustrations that seem naive to us were obviously sincere and were 
intended to enlighten the buyer. 

The large sketchbook, already discussed in connection with the first landing, 
contains several drawings relating to the second landing that illustrate this 
point. 

A painting of a red-haired man in a blue frock coat drinking wine bears 
the following eyewitness description of the Americans: “Their faces were paler 
than our women, their hair was as red as a palm; their eyes and eyebrows were 
close and the hollows about the eyes were deep; their noses were tall; they 
looked so much alike that they might be taken for brothers.” 

The artist has observed his model well. He has emphasized the foreign de¬ 
tails of the suit such as the way the wrinkles are formed around the button¬ 
holes of the coat. As the Japanese fastened their clothing with ties rather than 
buttons, all buttons were in great demand by them as souvenirs. 


Japanese Picture Scrolls of the First Americans in Japan / 215 



The red-haired American. 


Also in the sketchbook is a finely drawn sketch of an American Negro 
dressed in a parade uniform with gold buttons and epaulets and wearing a 
sword. That the artist has sketched a paddle boat on the same sheet of paper 
may indicate that he was preparing a whole picture story on the men of the 
black ships. This theory is strengthened by a drawing of four marines with 
muskets and bayonets, which seems to be by the same artist. The color has 
been carefully applied and every detail is thoroughly observed. The faces are 
not caricatures and the Western features have been individualized. 

In the double portrait of Commander Henry A. Adams and his son in this 
same sketchbook an attempt has been made to make the portraits true like¬ 
nesses. At the same time certain traditionally accepted codes have been fol¬ 
lowed. This explains the pink cheeks of the young man and the ruddy com¬ 
plexion of the father. The noses are large and the eyes slanted; this is the ac¬ 
cepted way a Japanese artist drew an American. The portraits are distinguished 
by having captions written above them in legible English script: “The Son of 
Adams 18 ys” and “Adams 50 years.” 


AMERICANS IN JAPAN AFTER 
COMMODORE PERRY 


The treaty of Kanagawa, which was the result of Commodore Perry’s voyages to 
Japan, opened two ports on the Japanese coast to American vessels. The port 
of Shimoda, south of Edo, was the first. The second, Hakodate, on the northern 
island of Hokkaido, was suggested for its geographical location, because it was 
convenient to the whalers, who needed a port in which to replenish their sup¬ 
plies. 


“Caroline E. Foote” Scroll In w ^ nter °f 1855 the first American commercial schooner, the Caroline E. 

Foote, arrived in Shimoda on its way to Hakodate to establish a trading post. 
The Library has a scroll of six scenes inspired by this visit, which aroused the 
greatest curiosity among the Japanese because of the presence of three American 
ladies and some children. The scroll begins with a family picture of Mr. and 
Mrs. Reed with their five-year-old daughter and the wife of the captain, Mrs. 
Worth. 


216 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


Below: This picture of Adams and his son 
from the large sketchbook is more finished 
than one in the Caroline E. Foote scroll. 

Below right: Mrs. Doty in her finery. 


The drawing is obviously copied from a more competently made scroll. It 
is of interest to us because it shows the first American women in Japan through 
the eyes of a Japanese observer. The ladies are wrapped in fringed shawls, and 
they wear demure bonnets and voluminous skirts to protect them against the 
cold of the harbor. The child is dressed in a miniature version of the clothes 
worn by the grownups. 

The scroll then presents a reproduction of one of the well-known portraits 
of Commodore Perry, for sale at Shimoda according to a contemporary letter: 
“I send you a Japanese drawing of Commodore Perry and two of his officers 
done in a high style of art, which I procured at Simoda, and I think will make 
you laugh.” 5 

A portrait of Commander Adams and his son with captions in English is 




Japanese Picture Scrolls of the First Americans in Japan / 217 









Large Sketchbook 


218 / Prints and Drawings 


added to this scroll. The full-figure portrait of Mrs. Doty in casual dress is fol¬ 
lowed by a portrait of her dressed up in special finery for the “Girl’s Festival.” 
Her three-tiered skirt and her fancy parasol indicate that she is prepared for a 
special outing. The facial features are not individualized and thus tell us little 
about the lady’s true physiognomy. 

The last panel of the scroll shows a group of foreigners as they might have 
been observed on a Shimoda street corner. There are three officers, two marines, 
and a Chinese gentleman, who may be modeled on Mr. Lo, the assistant to the 
American interpreter, Samuel Wells Williams. Mr. Lo had made himself very 
popular among the Japanese by his ability to write suitable verses as mementos 
on their fans. For this reason his portrait also appears in other drawings of the 
Americans made in Hakodate. 


A year after the visit of the Caroline E. Foote to Shimoda, the newly appointed 
American consul, Townsend Harris, arrived in the port on an American steamer. 
He was to continue negotiations with the Japanese and to convince them of the 
wisdom of signing a trade treaty with the United States. The threat of the 
arrival of the British and French forces finally broke down the resistance of the 
shogunate, and a treaty was signed in 1858 opening Japanese ports to American 
trade. 

In the sketchbook referred to earlier are two paintings showing Mr. Harris 
and officers of the U.S.S. Mississippi at an audience in the Goshoin, a conference 
room in the Edo Castle, after signing the treaty. The paintings are versions of 
much more detailed pictures in the collections of Tsuneo Tamba and Carl 
Boehringer, some of which have been published. 

In comparing the Library’s sketches to the finished paintings, it becomes 
apparent that the basic arrangement of the figures is identical. The Japanese 
court officials wear the prescribed court dress, including a black lacquer head¬ 
dress and wide pantaloons with a train. In comparison to their colorful appear¬ 
ance, the American naval officers appear somber in their black uniforms. The 
only break in the monotony is the red diplomatic sash of the minister-in-resi¬ 
dence, Townsend Harris. The picture is dominated by a mood of courtly cere¬ 
monial. Every actor knows his place in the drama and plays his role to perfec¬ 
tion. The interpreter is kneeling between the two groups and forms the human 
link connecting two different worlds. The picture omits all the details of the 

in the Nineteenth Century 



Minister-in-Residence Townsend Harris, 
identified by a ceremonial sash, in the first of 
two pictures at an audience in the Goshoin. 


walls and floor mats, but the essential character of the scene is preserved. 

The second illustration, which depicts the acceptance of the Japanese gifts, 
continues in the same tone of solemn ceremony. The Japanese nobles are 
attended by kneeling sword bearers. Minister Harris and two American naval 
officers are stepping forward to receive a gift of rolls of silk presented on trays. 
The Library’s painting does not show all the details of the more complete ver¬ 
sion of the painting, although the colors of the court costumes in the two paint¬ 
ings match. They seem to be based on a common source. 

The study of these Japanese documentary pictures leads to a fascination 
with the story behind them. The arrival of the Americans created a turmoil 
which eventually led to the dissolution of the feudal power of the shogunate. It 


Japanese Picture Scrolls of the First Americans in Japan / 219 


The Susquehanna as depicted in the large 
scroll of the first landing. 


also gave rise to a new school of popular art. Pictures describing Americans and 
foreigners in Japan after the opening of the country are called Yokohama-e. Our 
scrolls and illustrations fall into this category of popular art. For many years 
they were not appreciated by the Japanese public, because they were considered 
only crude and common popularizations. Today more and more attention is 
being paid to the Yokohama-e. The Library of Congress is fortunate in having a 
representative collection of these early pictures which record the first contacts 
between the United States and Japan. 



XOTES 


1. Matthew C. Perry, Narrative of the Expedition of an American Squadron to the China 
Seas and Japan, Performed in the Years 1852, 1853 and 1854, vol. 1, (Washington: 1856), p. 237. 

2. Like the other translations of the text appearing on the scrolls, this one was made by 
Miss Akiko Murakata, a participant in the doctoral program in American thought and culture 
conducted jointly by the Smithsonian Institute and the George Washington University. 

3. See the reproduction of the New York Public Library scroll on the double-page insert 
between pages 10 and 11 of Harold A. Mattice's Perry and Japan (New York: 1942). 

4. Vol. 1, pp. 358-59. 

5. George Henry Preble, The Opening of Japan; a Diary of Discovery in the Far East, 
1853-1856 (Norman: 1962), p. 274. 


220 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 



by Milton Kaplan 


Stages of Yt'oiiinn’s life from inlV.iu y to the brink of the gravr 


Pictorial Essays on Women / 221 






















WOMAN AS 


HOMEMAKER 



1 


222 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 





COOKING &IRONINC APPARATUS 


GAS 


SMOOTHING-IRON, 


Xo. 40--2 Burner*. 

m 

Price, $S 00 without Irons, 
fi 60 with 4 iron*. 

8IW ** 4 “ 


I feel ttoxiMe hoor i nr lulled. 



AND MINIATURE GAS FURNACE. 

W. F. SHAW’S PATENT. 

Cort of heating one Iron It but one-twelfth of onr cent. Time taken to heat one Iron to four minute*. 

One pint water will boll In flve minute*. C*cd bjr sli|>ping the end of flexible ho*e ovrr any gm barrier. 

THE M08T ECONOMICAL MEANS TET KNOWN FOR HEATING IRONS 

174 Washington Street, 

( Opjyom'te Bromfield Sheet), If ONTO. 


No. 32.—Price $3 2 S with -ut in •»». 

4 on with 1 iron. 

4 76 “ 4 “ 

Four fcvt flexible bate iielu lni. 



THE ONLY TRUE PRINCIPLE, WHEREBY ALL UNPLEASANT AND INJURIOUS ODORS ARE AVOIDED. 


Warranted by far superior to any other invention for heating Smoothing-Irons ever offered to the public. 


The superiority of this Invention over all others i* acknowledged by all who have seen its operation. The e\(ienite of ironing i- lev* than 
one cent per hour; the iron i* perfectly clean and free from smoke or ru*t. The Fokxace con be used for culinary purposes, ami Is a im-»( con¬ 
venient adaptation for the flick room, nursery - or drowsing-room. 

The economy of this method of heating in settled—which no one can doubt who trie* the experiment—and there can he no question of its 
superiority in other reapccts. The case and quickness with which the Hre is made, and extinguished when done with—the ftecdmu from :dl 
nuxious vapors, and the many other advantage* they possess over other furnaces, will Iks apparent to all who will give the mutter their attention. 

Upwards of 2,700 of these apparatus have been sold within one year, and have proved perfectly satisfactory. 

Gas Stoves for warming Dining rooms, Hotel rooms, Parlors, Sleeping rooms, Offices, Nurseries, Students' rooms, 
Bathing rooms, Green-houses, Ac., in the most pleasant and economical manner, are always on hand and in preparation 


The following is from N. A. Ff.nweh, Esq., of the* Xcw England Butt Co.; — 

pRnviocxcr., March 20. I8£8. 

Mr. W F. Siiaw, Ration — 

Dear Sir:—Having had rmisnlerahlc experience in the manufacture of * even* I kind* «>f Patent Sad Iron*. i« give* me great iJeaMue to »nv that, after 
having given your " Patent Aerified C»h» Furnace and Sod Iron Heater” fl (air te*t. I ran fully rorommrtwl it n* tin- iuo*i convenient anil eci in<m<« .-■! i>rr.iiigeincut 
lor honi ng Sod Iron* 1 have ever teen. By it an Iron can he heated sufficiently hot in five minute*' lime, and with n very small rouMiniptinn ol gns, for 'Hming the 
cliithing of a family. By using two iron*, mv family have Hone their ironing with the consumption of but four (eel ol ga» |*er hour, (by meter), winch, at the price 
of g«* in Boston, would amount in Imt one cent per hour, or ottMWdllli «if a cent for once licaiiug an iron. 

For economy, convenience, rlcanhnc**, comfort and general utility, I consider it the most period and do»ir«Me article for the purpose for winch it » intended 
vet offered to the nobhe. One great advantage it possesses over other gas healing apparatus is it* ent re Irccdoui from Miioke or odor of any kind, which is atlfi 
butCdl to surrounding the dame as you do. with flnHv-perlunilcd metal, lncn*bv producing perfect ranbustkni. 

Your* truly, NICHOLAS A. FENNER. 


2 

















1. Shake Hands? Lithograph by Lafosse. Painted by Mrs. Lily 
Martin Spencer. William Schaus, 1854. LC-USZ62-16771. 

2. W. F. Shaw’s Patent Gas Cooking & Ironing Apparatus. Gas 
Smoothing-Iron, and Miniature Gas Furnace, 1858. LC-USZ62- 
40704. 

3. [Woman with Hoe.] Drawing by Alice Barber Stephens. 
LC-U SZ62-54590. 

4. The Kitchen. Prang’s Aids for Object Teaching; Trades & 
Occupations, plate 6. Lithograph by L. Prang & Co., 1874. 
LC-USZ62-478. 



Pictorial Essays on Women / 223 



















































WOMAN AS WIFE 



224 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 













For Preserving &DressingThe 


r r 


A 


6 





















8 


5. The Young Housekeepers. The Day after Marriage. 
Lithographed by Nathaniel Currier, 1848. LC-USZ6-36I. 

6. Hovey’s Cocoa Glycerine For Preserving & Dressing the Hair. 
Lithograph by John H. Bufford, 1860. LC-USZ62^4624. 

7. The last Request. Lithograph by Fenderich & Wild, n.d. 
LC-USZ62-54598. 

8. Reading the Scriptures. Lithographed by Nathaniel Currier, 
n.d. LC-USZ62-02874. 


Pictorial Essays on Women / 225 














WOMAN AS MOTHER 



9 


226 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 






11 










9. And The Star-Spangled Banner. Engraved by George E. 
Perine. Published by William Pate, 1861. LC-USZ62-5264. 

10. The Mother’s Blessing. Lithograph by Currier & Ives, n.d. 
LC-USZ6-354. 

11. “Her face was dark with heat and streaked with perspira¬ 
tion,” a drawing by F. C. Yohn for Mother by Kathleen Norris, 
reproduced in The Ladies’ Home Journal, August 1912. 
LC-USZ62-54595. 


12. Chippeway Squaw & Child. Lithographed by John T. 
Bowen. Published in Thomas L. McKenny and James Hall’s 
History of the Indian Tribes of North A merica, 1838-44. 

LC-U SZ62-54593. 

13. Mother and Child. Lithographed by Nathaniel Currier, 
1846. LC-USZ6-353. 

14. An Increase of Family. Lithograph by Currier & Ives, 1863. 
LC-USZ62-8931. 


Pictorial Essays on Women / 227 














WOMAN AS MENTOR 


15. “I received an appointment as teacher in a district school,” 
drawing by John Wolcott Adams, for “The Log Cabin Lady,” 
in The Delineator, December 1921. LC-USZ62-34839. 



16. One of the Wards of the Hospital at Scutari. Lithograph by 
E. Walker of a drawing by W. Simpson. Printed by Day & Son, 
1856. LC-USZ62-11313. 

17. Mrs. Juliann Jane Tilman. Preacher of the A.M.E. Church. 
Lithograph by A. Hoffy. Printed by P.S. Duval, 1844. 
LC-USZ62-54596. 

18. The Slum Work of the Salvation Army—Scene at a 
Prayer-Service in the Slum District of New York. Reproduction 
in Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper, December 20, 1894, of 
a drawing by Miss G. A. Davis. LC-USZ62-2173. 

19. “Dorothy Busy in the Library,” drawing by Alice Barber 
Stephens for George Eliot’s Middlemarch. LC-USZ62-54592. 


15 


16 


228 j Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 
































19 

Pictorial Essays on Women / 229 


18 
















WOMAN AS BREADWINNER 



230 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 



20. Baker, Prang’s Aids for Object Teaching; Trades 8c 
Occupations, plate 10. Lithograph by L. Prang 8c Co., 1875. 
LC-USZ62-4218. 

21. Milliner, Woodcut in Edward Hazen’s Panorama of 
Professsions & Trades, 1836. LC-USZ62-32031. 

22. Jas. B. Smith & Co. Booksellers and Blank Book Manufac¬ 
turers. Lithograph by August Kollner. Printed by H. Camp, 
1850. LC-USZ62-02169. 

23. Glimpses at the Freedmen—The Freedmen’s Union Industrial 
School, Richmond Virginia. “From a Sketch by Our Special 
Artist, Jas. E. Taylor.” Wood engraving, Frank Leslie’s 
Illustrated Newspaper, September 22, 1866. LC-USZ62-33264. 

24. W. S. & C. H. Thomson’s Skirt Manufactory. Wood en¬ 
graving in Harper’s Weekly, February 19, 1859, LC-USZ62- 
2035. 

25. Match-Makers. Wood engraving in Harper’s Weekly, June 
17, 1871. LC-USZ62-5375. 













































25 


Pictorial Essays on Women / 231 




































WOMAN ON STAGE 



26 

232 I Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 



28 
























IS. 


29 






31 


26. John W. Isham’s Grand Opera Celebrities. Great Singers 
of the Century. Lithograph by the Strobridge Lith. Co., 
1896. LC-USZ61-1016. 


27. Greeting to America. Jenny Lind. Lithograph by A. 
Shwartz & F. Mone. Printed by Nagel & Weingaertner, 1850. 
LC-USZ62-01295. 


28. [Animal Tamer] Lithograph by Gibson & Co., 1872. 
LC-USZ62-1146. 

29. Ellen Tree in the Character of Mariane in “The Wreckers 
Daughter.” Lithograph by Henri Heidemans. Printed by 
Nathaniel Currier, 1837. LC-USZ62-54601. 

30. Madame Celeste as Miami, in Buckstone’s Celebrated Drama 
“Green Bushes.” Lithograph by Nathaniel Currier, 1848. 
LC-USZ62-15674. 


31. Anna Held in “Papa’s Wife.” Lithograph by Strobridge 
Lith. Co., 1900. LC-USZ62-11878. 


Pictorial Essays on Women / 233 










WOMAN IN FASHION 



32. A Daughter of the South. Drawing by Charles Dana Gibson, 
for Collier’s; the National Weekly, July 31, 1909. LC-USZ62- 
5536. 

33. Mary. Lithographed by James Baillie, 1846. LC-USZ62- 
54600. 

34. American Fashions. Spring and Summer 1886. Lithograph 
by Major, Knapp & Co., 1886. LC-USZ62-54279. 

35. The Colored Beauty. Lithograph by Currier & Ives, 1877. 
LC-USZ62-35745. 

36. The Grecian Bend, “She Stoops to Conquer.” Lithograph 
by Studley & Co., 1868. LC-USZ62-02308. 

37. “Bloomerism,” or the New Female Costume of 1851, As 
it has appeared in the various Cities and Towns. Woodcut 

in Bloomerism, published by S. W. Wheeler, 1851. LC-USZ62- 
050171. 


234 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 













THE 



36 


37 



“BLOOMERISM,” 


OR THE 


NEW FEMALE COSTUME OF 1851, 


As it has appeared in the various Cities and Towns. 

BOSTON: 8. W. WHEELER, 66 ComWU—1851. 


Pictorial Essays on Women / 235 





























WOMAN IN SPORTS 




38. The Stormer Bicycle. Lithogiaph by Strobridge Lith. Co., 
1896. LC-USZ62-29633. 

39. Bending Her Beau! Lithograph bv Currier & Ives, 1880. 
LC-USZ62-17673. 

40. Rower. Lithography by Knapp & Co., 1889. LC-USZ62- 
54599. 

41. [Skating] Cover for Vanity Fair, January' 1916. LC-USZ62- 
45907. 

42. [Her First Tee] Watercolor by William T. Smedley^ for 
“Colonel Bogie, a Golf Story,” by Gustav Kobbe, in Harper’s 
Weekly, July 31, 1897. LC-USZ62-15735. 

43. Lawn Tennis. Lithograph by L. Prang & Co. of painting 
by Henry Sandham, 1887. LC-USZ62-1244. 


236 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 



















40 


43 

Pictorial Essays on Women / 237 













W O M A N 


IN ADVERTISING 



238 Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 


INC «4«MOTN imrnA WORKS 

CALIFORNIA CHINA & INDIA COFFEE&TEA CO. 

OFTIM4<J54«7S«S3*ECT £ litlOm SS4STC0«Ktt!*l SI 


45 

















44. The Pride of Oregon Old Bourbon. Lithograph by G. T 
Brown & Co., 1871. LC-USZ62-12429. 

45. Granulated 7 O’clock Breakfast Coffee. Lithograph by 
Britton, Rey & Co., 1876. LC-USZ62-16777. 



THE BEST IN THE MARKET 


46. The Best in the Market. Lithograph by Currier & Ives, 1880. 
LC-USZ62-19533. 

47. The Quality of Rob Roy, Lithograph by Julius Bien & 
Company, 1895. LC-USZ62-20485. 



46 UNITED STATES. COLDWATER. MICH. 


47 


Pictorial Essays on Women / 239 







WOMAN IN ADVERTISING (continued) 



48 

240 / Prints and Drawings in the Nineteenth Century 



;l saw* At IDE MATT THE IKK! WiUH'W 

_D r >iv r r: ~r i 1 r.r; > KITTXJ j.^LXCLLLIi'UiJ. 

49 


48. Dobbins’ Medicated Toilet Soap. Lithograph by J. Haehnlen, 
1869. LC-USZ62-12432. 

49. Domestic Sewing Machine. Lithograph by W. J. Morgan 
& Co., 1882. LC-USZ62-38598. 

50. Dobbins’ Vegetable Hair Renewer. Woodcut by Ringwalt 
& Brown, 1870. LC-USZ62-12861. 






NOTHING 

MAKES HAIR 


BEWARE 


DOBBINS’ 

VEGETABLE 


50 


51. Thomson’s Glove-Fitting Corsets. Lithograph by The 
Graphic Co., 1874. LC-USZ62-54597. 

52. Lenox Soap Lathers Freely in Hard Water. Lithograph by 
the Strobridge Litho. Co., 1898. LC-USZ62-28613. 

53. Home Washing Machine & Wringer. Lithograph, 1869. 
LC-USZ62-2589. 




T i< \ i) i: 


M .> I< K 



T 11 0 MSONS 



CLOVE-FITTING CORSETS 


NAME COPYRIGHTED 


51 




DEPOT 24 CORTLANDT ST:,NEW YORK . 

DEPOT, 13 BARCLAY ST., NEW YORK.. 

53 


Pictorial Essays on Women / 241 

























































Ill PRINTS, DRAWINGS, AND PAINTINGS 
FROM THE TURN OF THE CENTURY 
TO THE SIXTIES 


Pierre Cecile Puvis de Chavannes, the French mural 
painter, designed this poster for the exhibition 
marking the centenary of the invention of lithog¬ 
raphy. His first critical acclaim was won by 
his paintings entitled War and Peace. His murals 
decorated many buildings in France, and in 1895 
he began a series of panels for the Boston public 
Library. 



GALERIE RAPP 

CHAMP DE MARS 


OCTQBRE-NOVEIVIBRE 1895 


244 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 























American Artist Prints 


by Karen F. Beall 


The Library of Congress recently acquired for the Pennell Collection one of 
the six rare lithographs made by John Singer Sargent (1856—1925), the well- 
known painter of portraits. 

Sargent was a truly cosmopolitan figure. Born in Florence of parents with 
Boston and Philadelphia backgrounds, Sargent, thus an American, remained 
an expatriate throughout his life. His childhood was spent moving about Europe 
before settling in Paris in 1874. Here the eighteen-year-old artist enrolled in the 
atelier of Carolus-Duran where he received the academic training suitable for 
portraiture—the most readily acceptable outlet in the field in the eyes of his 
parents. 

Sargent worked diligently and in 1877 submitted the first of his many 
salon entries. Early in 1885 he gave up his Paris studio and made London his 
permanent headquarters although he continued to make numerous trips abroad. 
During his lifetime many honors were bestowed on him, yet acclaim does not 
seem to have dampened his vigor and enthusiasm. In his later years he devoted 
himself to landscapes and figure studies in watercolor, abandoning portraiture, 
which had been both his forte and his livelihood. 

During the 1890s a great interest in lithography was stirring as the cen¬ 
tennial year of the discovery of the process by Aloys Senefelder (1771-1834) 
approached. In 1895 an exhibition in celebration of this anniversary was ar¬ 
ranged in Paris at the Galerie Rapp. A poster by Puvis de Chavannes (1824 
98) in the Library’s collections advertises this exhibition. The master printer 


245 


Frederick Goulding (1842-1909) was particularly interested in this venture and 
offered to provide the necessary lithographic materials for the participating 
artists as well as do the actual printing. 

There are two methods for producing lithographs. Using a greasy crayon 
or ink, the artist can draw either directly on the stone or on specially prepared 
paper, which is then transferred to the stone by the printer. In an interview 
which appeared in The Studio in 1898 (vol. 6, p. 86), Goulding was asked if he 
preferred the method of drawing on paper and replied, “Yes, you can draw on 
paper with much greater freedom and with less mechanical grain being appar¬ 
ent than upon stone.” Aside from any personal preference for drawing on paper, 
it was also a practical matter as many of the participating artists would not 
have had easy access to the cumbersome lithographic stones. An impressive array 
of artist’s names appears in the catalog of the centennial exhibition. (The only 
copy of this catalog known to us is in Boston at the Museum of Fine Arts.) 
Among the artists included are Edouard Manet (1832-1883), Honore Daumier 
(1808—1879), Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1864-1901), Phil May (1864-1903), 
Odilon Redon (1840-1916), and, of particular interest for these notes, Sargent. 

Although he had done much drawing, Sargent was not quite at home with 
the stickiness of the lithographic crayon, which differed so radically from his 
familiar media, pencil and charcoal. Despite this, he found he was able to main¬ 
tain his usual high standard of draftsmanship and his prints have a directness 
and spontaneity that have an immediate appeal to the observer. In his Study of 
a Young Man (Seated), 1895, as in all of his lithographs, he used the specially 
prepared transfer paper. Goulding remarked, “To all intents and purposes this 
bold drawing of Sargent’s is his actual work, every dot and gradation he set 
down is there.” 1 The print is signed and dated on the stone and the Library’s 
impression is also signed in pencil with the insription, “To Miss Stephens, John 
S. Sargent.” The date on the stone is nearly illegible, yet there is no doubt of 
its execution in 1895 at Goulding’s instigation. The figure, rather artificially 
draped, sits on a bed or couch, his right arm extended behind him, his hand 
resting on a pillow. The compositional device of receding diagonal lines creates 
a feeling of space. The figure leans forward and seems to project almost before 
the picture plane, a pose very rare in works by Sargent. An illusion of depth is 
further created by the contrast between the light striking the bed in the left 
foreground and the darkness of the upper right background. The sparkling 
effect of light is achieved through the use of the white of the paper and the 
print has a fresh, vital quality. The black lines and areas of the background are 


246 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 


quite rich but some of the fainter ones of the drapery are nearly lost, which may 
be due to the fact that the drawing was not done directly on the stone. Stylisti¬ 
cally this is freer and looser than the portraits Sargent was doing at this time 
and is closer in this respect to some of his later watercolors. 

The inscription to Miss Stephens refers to Emily Henrietta Stephens of 
Eastington. Letter’s written by Sargent and seen, courtesy of David McKibbin, 
at the Boston Athenaeum, indicate that a friendship between the artist and the 
Stephens family existed for many years (see Burke’s Landed Gentry, 1952, for 
the Stephens family). After Miss Stephens’s death in 1952 at the age of ninety- 
six, her pictures passed to her niece, and her papers were sold by a bookseller to 
a relative of Sargent. The lithograph, however, was placed by the bookseller 
at auction at Sotheby’s in London, where it was acquired by the Library of 
Congress. 

The identity of the model is also uncertain. It is known that in the early 
1890s a young London Italian, Nicola d’Inverno, came into Sargent’s service 
as his valet, an association that was maintained for over twenty years—during 
which he often posed for the artist. He is known to have posed for the painting 
Man Reading, dated after 1895. Both this picture (in the Reading Public Mu¬ 
seum and Art Gallery) and an impression of our lithograph (in the Philadel¬ 
phia Museum of Art) were lent to an exhibition in 1964 at the Corcoran Gal¬ 
lery of Art. 2 

In the painting, Nicola leans on his elbow and reads from a book held in 
his left hand. He wears a mustache and appears somewhat older than the model 
for our lithograph or for a second one, Study of a Young Man ( Drawing ), be¬ 
lieved to have been done at the same time and from the same model. In this 
the model leans across a table, the head is in profile, and he is sketching. His 
profile view and the indication of a mustache even more convincingly relate to 
the Man Reading and suggest that Nicola may have been the model. In each 
instance, the line of the nose, the position of the eyes, the hairline, and the 
structure of the forearm are much the same. Nicola has been described as lithe 
and muscular—a description certainly fitting the model for our study. Sargent 
had received a commission for murals in the Boston Public Library in 1890 
and was developing his ideas for them at the time his lithographs were made, 
so a connection between the murals and the prints is possible. Nicola is known 
to have posed for the murals, in which Sargent painted numerous nude and 
partially draped figures. Being very contained, these figures are stylistically 
quite different from the lithograph; yet the similarity of the pose of the 


American Artist Prints: John Singer Sargent / 247 




Above: Study of a Young Man (Drawing) . 


Left, Sargent’s Study of a Young Man (Seated), 
acquired by the Library of Congress. 


248 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 











Left: Man Reading (The Reading Public Museum 
and Art Gallery, Reading, Pa.) ; center: Philosophy, 
section of the murals on the stair vault of the 
Museum of Fine Arts at Boston (courtesy of 
Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Francis Bartlett 
donation); right: the variant Study of a Young 
Man (Seated) from the collection at Boston 
(.Museum of Fine Arts) . 


Philosophy panel and our seated study is striking. 

Two lithographs have already been mentioned; in addition, Sargent did 
two portaits of Albert Belleroche (one in 1905, the other, head only, undated), 
one of William Rothenstein, and one of Beatrice Stewart. According to Camp¬ 
bell Dodgson the British Museum has all six. The Boston Museum of Fine 
Arts has the Study of a Young Man ( Seated ), Head of a Young Woman (Bea¬ 
trice Stewart in two impressions, one on white the other on pink paper), and 
William Rothenstein, 1897 (in two states—one done after the print was can¬ 
celed; approximately eight impressions were made before cancellation). In addi¬ 
tion to the Study of a Young Man (Seated ) a remarkable print similar in pro¬ 
portion but certainly different in technique is in the collection at Boston. The 
relationship between the print and ours is ambiguous; perhaps it is a copy, per¬ 
haps an adaptation in which the original was drawn over or in which the proof 
lost its separation of tones and was allowed to become too dark. In any case the 
technique of scraping into the dark areas gives an effect that is utterly different. 


American Artist Prints: John Singer Sargent / 249 

















In this version a distinct paper texture appears unlike lithographic paper. This 
variant was exhibited together with the other one in a lithography show held 
at the Boston Museum, October 7-December 21, 1937. Through the generosity 
of Frederick Goulding, the Victoria and Albert Museum received in 1906 a set 
of seventy-six signed proofs from the centennial exhibition, among which is 
included the Sargent print. The Metropolitan Museum of Art has two impres¬ 
sions of our study; the Cleveland Museum of Art, the Philadelphia Museum of 
Art and, of course, the Library of Congress each have an impression as well. 

Nothing further has been written about these prints since Albert Belleroche 
did an article and Campbell Dodgson compiled a catalog of Sargent’s lith¬ 
ographs. 3 


NOTES 1. Martin Hardie, Frederick Goulding (Stirling, Eng.: 1910) , p. 110. 

2. Donelson F. Hoopes, The Private World of John Singer Sargent (New York: 1964). 

3. Print Collector’s Quarterly 13 (1926) : 30-45. 


250 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 


Drawings by William Glackens 


by Alan M. Fern 


In this day of picture magazines and illustrated newspapers, it is difficult to re¬ 
member that only fifty years ago the speedy, direct reproduction of photographs 
was relatively uncommon. A commercially practical method of making print¬ 
ing plates from photographs without using hand engraving was developed only 
after 1880, and it was not until the founding of the New York Daily Mirror in 
1904 that a newspaper was illustrated exclusively with photographs. Until then, 
most pictorial journals employed skilled artists as reporters and retained large 
crews of wood engravers to transform into printing blocks the drawings made 
on the scene of a news story. 

Since 1932 the Library of Congress has actively collected the original 
drawings of these reporters and illustrators. The Cabinet of American Illustra¬ 
tion, the Civil War drawings of Edwin Forbes, Alfred Waud, and William 
Waud, and the collection of original political cartoons comprise about ten 
thousand drawings originally prepared for reproduction. The recent gift of 
eleven drawings—augmented by fourteen others deposited with them—made dur¬ 
ing the Spanish-American War by William Glackens is a notable addition to 
these collections, and the Library is grateful to the artist’s son, Mr. Ira Glackens, 
for his generosity. 

Although he is best known for his paintings, which are in many American 
museums and private collections, William Glackens started his career as an 
artist reporter. 1 Born in Philadelphia in 1870, he enrolled at the Pennsylvania 
Academy of the Fine Arts at the age of twenty-one to begin the serious study 


251 


of painting. At the same time, he supported himself by doing drawings for the 
Philadelphia Record, a job which gave him an unparalleled opportunity to 
develop a sharp eye, a keen memory, and a deft touch. These qualities never 
deserted him even when, in his later career, he turned away from reporting. 
The painter Everett Shinn, writing in 1943, recalls of his friend, “All things 
within the range of William J. Glackens’ vision were . . . unconsciously absorbed 
and catalogued in orderly fashion for any immediate usage. His eyes were veri¬ 
table harvesters of the total limits of his sight.” 2 Shinn was deeply impressed 
with the artist’s ability to record accurately the rigging of ships or the details 
of machinery, as well as the sense of a crowd in a street which he might have 
observed in passing. To a considerable extent, delight in observation was the 
basis of Glackens’s painting as well as of his reportorial drawing, and unques¬ 
tionably it is this which raises the Spanish-American War series above the 
ordinary level of journalistic sketching. 

After a few years of newspaper work, Glackens wished to expand his artistic 
horizons and to develop for himself a style of painting more mature and re¬ 
sponsive than he was able to evolve in his spare time in Philadelphia. In 1895 
he went to Paris and was deeply impressed by what he saw of the painting of 
Edouard Manet, Auguste Renoir, and the other independent artists who had 
broken with the anecdotal painting of the Academie des Beaux-Arts and the 
official Salon. These men had taken their subjects from everyday life, not 
from ancient Greece or medieval Europe, and for their landscapes and genre 
scenes they created a radically new technique of painting—free and vivid, giving 
the effect of an immediate transcription of their observations from nature. 

Glackens responded immediately to this kind of painting and felt at least 
that he had found his proper medium of expression. He returned to the United 
States late in 1895, settled in New York, and—as in Philadelphia—found that he 
had to earn his living as an illustrator. He worked for the New York Herald 
and, briefly, for the Sunday World; but now his painting was going well and he 
wished to devote more time to it. He exhibited his paintings for the first time at 
the Pennsylvania Academy’s exhibition in 1896, and in the following year re¬ 
signed from the Herald. From this time onward, with the single exception of 
the Spanish-American War, Glackens accepted only freelance assignments to 
augment his income from the sale of paintings. 

His skilled draftsmanship and painterly handling of composition (along 
with an engaging sense of humor) made Glackens’ illustrations outstanding 
among those published in American periodicals during the 1890s, with the re- 

252 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 


suit that his work became well known to art editors in New York. With the out¬ 
break of the Spanish-American War there was a scramble for increased circula¬ 
tion by all papers and magazines covering the event. Writers, artists, and pho¬ 
tographers were hired for their ability to attract readers either by the quality of 
their work or by their personal reputation. McClure’s Magazine evidently hoped 
to find correspondents who would provide both attractions. Stephen Crane, 
whose Red Badge of Courage and intricate personal life had made him famous 
and notorious, was engaged to write from the battlefront. William Glackens was 
the only artist-reporter employed to work exclusively for McClure’s. Since his 
life was reasonably conventional, it may be assumed that he was hired for his 
extraordinary talents as a draftsman. 

A letter from the manager of McClure’s art department (quoted in Ira 
Glackens’s biography, page 23) assigned Glackens to “go to Cuba with the 
American troops’’ and send “illustrations telling the story of the departure, 
voyage and arrival and subsequent work and fights of the U.S. troops in Cuba.” 

Evidently Glackens took his assignment seriously, for in the twenty-five 
drawings which survive (now in the Library of Congress, as noted in the ap¬ 
pended checklist) and in six others which were reproduced but later dis¬ 
appeared, every aspect of the campaign mentioned in the letter is represented. 
The artist arrived in Florida early in May 1898, and his scenes in Tampa in¬ 
clude the marshalling and feeding of troops, the delivery of a captured Spanish 
spy, and general views of the transports anchored in the bay. Crossing with the 
troops in June, he recorded life aboard the transport Vigilancia; arriving at 
Daiquiri, he showed the debarkation of troops and horses, the shelling of the 
woods above the harbor, and the battle headquarters. Glackens followed the 
troops to El Pozo and San Juan Hill, and sent back drawings of life in the 
trenches, of the surrneder, and of the ceremonies before the Governor’s Palace 
in Santiago de Cuba at the close of hostilities. 

Taken as a group, the drawings exhibit remarkable contrasts of character. 
At an early point in the campaign (possibly just after the troops had landed 
in Cuba). Glackens depicted a spruce, orderly squad of soldiers proceeding 
across a field, led by an officer on horseback (Fig. 1). The neatness of the men’s 
bedrolls and packs is reinforced by the composition of the picture, in which the 
artist-reporter repeated the shapes of the packs and the men in numerious 
parallel series. Strikingly different is the drawing of a scene late in the battle at 
El Pozo, in which the condition of the men in battle is eloquently expressed 
through the artist’s use of scattered, jagged lines and shapes (Fig. 2). It is doubt- 


Drawings by William Glackens / 253 



Troops and man on horse, Cuba. 


254 I Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 



ful that these details of composition would have asserted themselves consciously 
to the artist during the excitement and danger of battle, but Glackens’s early 
experience as an artist-reporter had so thoroughly trained him to respond 
directly to the scenes and actions before him that he instinctively could com¬ 
municate with all possible force what he had seen and felt. 

A less sensitive artist might have been satisfied to portray the ordinary activ¬ 
ities of an army in battle without attempting to convey a sense of atmosphere or 
mood. Glackens’s drawings, on the contrary, communicate a striking sense of 
time and weather. The superb drawing of a night view of the field hospital after 
San Juan (Fig. 3) and the scene of the transports in Tampa Bay under an over¬ 
cast sky (Fig. 4) are but two examples of this mood setting so surely handled 
that even the process of reproductive engraving could not destroy it. 

Of necessity, the drawings had to be made into printing blocks before they 
were useful to McClure’s, and to do this involved a complex process. Many of 
the drawings were done on toned paper, using bold strokes of black-and-white 
watercolor to model the basic shapes and tonal areas. On all the drawings, 
Glackens used a crisp line of either pen and ink or crayon. When the drawings 
were received in New York, they were photographed and made into metal half¬ 
tone blocks; that is, a photographic and chemical procedure was used which 
divided all areas of gray into tiny raised dots, equally spaced but varying in 
size with the depth of value in each part of the drawing. The dots in dark 
portions were large, in light portions small, so that an approximation of the 
original tonalities could be obtained in printing. 

Up to this point, no handwork was done on the plate, but since only limited 
contrasts of black and white are easily attainable in the primitive halftone 
process, the plate then went to an engraver who added highlights by hand and 
reinforced the vigorous lines of the artist’s drawing. When the plates were finally 
printed on the high-speed presses used for McClure’s a reasonable facsimile of 
the original drawing resulted, although—as can be noticed in Figures 5a and b— 
the intervention of another hand somewhat altered the character of Glackens’s 
drafsmanship. 

Of the drawings in the present gift, those published appeared in McClure’s 
Magazine. Ira Glackens records that an agreement had been reached with the 
World for his father to use the newspaper’s special boat in return for publica¬ 
tion rights to some of the drawings—the sole exception to the exclusive contract 
with McClure’s. So far, no drawings have been identified in the World, and it 
may be assumed that Glackens never took advantage of the arrangement. 


Drawings by William Glackens / 255 



“Night after San Juan—Field Hospital.” 




“El Pozo (fighting up hill) 



256 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Tarn of the Century to the Sixties 





“Transports anchored in the bay (Tampa].” 


Drawings by William Glackens / 257 









‘‘Raising the flag . . . Santiago”-de<ai7 of original 
drawing. 



"Raising the flag . . . Santiago ”—detail of 
reproduction in Mcclure’s. 


258 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 















Several drawings remained unpublished owing to the time it took to send 
them by ship from Cuba to New York, or so Glackens was told -when he arrived 
home, ill w r ith malaria, to learn that he was to be paid only for the drawings 
actually used. Since most of his drawings did not appear in McClure’s until 
October and December 1898 and February 1899 issues (the fighting had ended 
in July, the treaty of peace was signed in December 1898), it may be that 
readers lost interest before all of them had been used. Nonetheless, it is difficult 
to believe that the artist greeted this news with as much equanimity as Ira 
Glackens suggests, and the fact remains that he did no more work for the mag¬ 
azine. 

The drawings—used or unused—were never returned to the artist. In a note 
accompanying his gift of the drawings, Ira Glackens wrote: “The history of 
these drawings is curious. McClure’s retained them and my father never saw 
them again. After his death in 1938, a stranger wrote my mother that he had 
the collection, and felt she should have it, and presented it to her. He had 
saved the drawings from destruction forty years before. Unfortunately I do not 
know his name.” 

Although Glackens continued to make illustrations—nine of his drawings for 
Scribner’s Magazine or for books are in the Library’s Cabinet of American 
Illustration—from this time onward he concentrated more and more on painting. 
In 1901 he participated in his first group exhibition, in contrast to the large 
Academy exhibitions in which only one or two paintings by each artist could be 
shown. After his marriage in 1904 and a belated wedding trip to Europe, a series 
of events brought him into the national prominence he enjoyed until his death 
in 1938. 

Excluded from the New York Academy Exhibition of 1907, Glackens and 
seven others showed their pictures independently at the Macbeth Gallery in 
1908. 3 “The Eight,” as they came to be called, undertook to paint pictures that 
vibrated with the life around them. Portrayals of children in the park, people 
in crowded streets, scenes of homelife in humble apartments earned them the 
epithet “Ashcan Painters.” The extraordinary power of their brushwork and 
draftsmanship, however, gave nobility to their subjects and raised their work 
far above the level of the mere chronicle. 

Today the paintings of “The Eight” still live. Much of the art-loving public 
is pleased, rather than shocked, by portrayals of familiar life, while it finds it 
increasingly difficult to accept the sentimental and artificial studies produced 
by the Academicians against whom Glackens and his associates revolted. The 


Drawings by William Glackens / 259 


“Raising the flag over the Governor’s Palace, 
Santiago.” 


drawings of the Spanish-American War belong to this tradition. Indeed, be¬ 
cause they came in a period of Glackens’s career when he was turning away 
from reporting and finding his way as a painter, so they are important docu¬ 
ments in American art as well as significant records of a war. 



260 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 







NOTES 


1. A full biography of the artist has been published by his son Ira in William Glackens and 
the Ashcan Group (New York: 1957). Most of the biographical material in this article is based 
on this work. 

2. Everett Shinn, “Recollections of the Eight,” in Brooklyn Institute of Arts and Sciences 
Museum, The Eight (Brooklyn, N.Y.: 1943) , p. 18. 

3. The other participants in this famous exhibition were Arthur B. Davies, Robert Henri, 
Ernest Lawson, George Luks, William Prendergast, Everett Shinn, and John Sloan. 


Drawings by William Glackens / 261 



262 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 






Arnold Schonberg and the Blaue Reiter 


by Edgar Breitenbach 



Schonberg’s Vision. 
LC-U SZ62-60632 


The purpose of this essay is to restore a remarkable pedigree to a painting which 
for many years has been displayed in the Whittall Pavilion in the Library of 
Congress. I am referring to the painting by Arnold Schonberg which was pre¬ 
sented to the Library in October 1954 by Leopold Stokowski, the famous con¬ 
ductor. Schonberg completed the painting in 1910, and in 1949 he dedicated it 
to Stokowski, who believed it to be a self-portrait. 1 This conclusion, however, is 
in error and, as we shall see, the correct title is Vision. 

In the decades preceding the First World War, Germany enjoyed a high 
degree of prosperity, unprecedented in her history, that reached far down into 
the lower strata of society. Yet for all the material well-being, there was wide¬ 
spread uneasiness among German intellectuals, accompanied by tensions which 
increased year by year after the turn of the century. It was not so much social 
unrest as a deep disgust with crass materialism. There were demands for a new 
spirituality, for a simpler form of life, reminiscent of Rousseau’s “back to 
nature.” As one of the contemporaries put it: 

We are standing today at the turning point of two long epochs, similar 
to the state of the world fifteen hundred years ago, when there was also a 
transitional period without art and religion—a period in which great and 
traditional ideas died and new and unexpected ones took their place. . . . 
The hour is unique. Is it too daring to call attention to the small, unique 
signs of the time? 2 


263 



























These words were written in 1911; five years later, their author was dead on 
the battlefields of France. By that time the chiliastic enthusiasm was spent. 

During the latter half of the nineteenth century Munich replaced Diisseldorf 
as the center of the German art world. Its Academy of Art was the most re¬ 
nowned in the country and the bastion of the art establishment. The first revolt 
against the traditional ways occurred in 1892, when a group of dissident artists 
formed the Sezession. It did not take very long before the secessionists became 
academicians in their turn, and thus a new anti-establishment movement was 
created. Even more short-lived and today all but forgotten, it carried the sig¬ 
nificant name Die Scholle (“the soil”), thereby indicating the belief of its mem¬ 
bers in the regenerating influence of communion with nature. Finally, in January 
1909, a new group was formed under the intentionally neutral name of Neue 
Kiinstlervereinigung Miinchen (“New Artists’ Association of Munich”). Its leader 
was Wassily Kandinsky. 

Kandinsky, a lawyer by training and a professor of economics in Moscow, 
came to Munich in 1896 to become an artist. He enrolled in the private art 
school of Anton Azbe and later established a similar school himself, called Pha¬ 
lanx. In the spring of 1909 the Neue Kunstlervereinigung sent a letter to pro¬ 
spective patrons, probably drafted by Kandinsky, which outlined the association’s 
programs. 

We take the liberty of drawing your attention to an artists’ organization 
formed in January 1909 which hopes, through the exhibition of serious 
works of art, to work for the promotion of art to the best of its ability. It 
is our belief that an artist, in addition to the impressions he receives from 
the external world, that is to say nature, is constantly collecting experiences 
from an inner world. The search for artistic forms, which express the inter¬ 
penetration of all these experiences, forms freed from everything super¬ 
fluous, expressing nothing but what is essential, in short a search for an 
artistic synthesis, seems in our opinion a solution which today spiritually 
links more and more artists to each other. 3 

The first major problem which the new association faced was to find a gal¬ 
lery willing to accept their exhibitions. After much prodding on the part of 
Hugo von Tschudi, the newly appointed director of the Bavarian State Mu¬ 
seums, Heinrich Thannhauser, owner of the largest commercial art gallery, 
finally agreed to accept the group. The first exhibition took place in December 

264 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 


1909 and was followed by a second one nine months later. Both were complete 
failures in the eyes of the public and the critics. Practically the only words of 
understanding and sympathy came from Hugo von Tschudi and from an out¬ 
sider, a young painter who valiantly defended the group in the press and who 
subsequently was offered a membership and given a voice in the association’s 
affairs. His name was Franz Marc. 

In contrast to the first exhibition, which included only sixteen Munich 
painters, the second exhibition was international. Many of the French painters 
who subsequently enjoyed global fame were represented: Braque and Picasso, 
Derain, Vlaminck, and Odilon Redon. When the time came to hold a third 
exhibition, tension among the members of the association became noticeable. It 
is easy to blame the more conservative members for being too stodgy. They 
evidently felt that the two previous failures proved that the group had become 
too experimental and thus had lost touch with the critics and public alike. When 
the jury met, they voted down Kandinsky’s entry. This rejection was the signal 
for Kandinsky, Marc, Alfred Kubin, Gabriele Miinter, and several others to 
leave the association in protest. The new dissidents frantically arranged an ex¬ 
hibition of their own, held in two rooms of the Thannhauser Gallery, adjacent 
to the third exhibition of the New Artists’ Association. It opened on December 
18, 1911, and closed early in January 1912. Its title was “First Exhibition of the 
Editors of the Blaue Reiter.” The Blaue Reiter Almanac, which Kandinsky and 
Marc had been working on since the summer of 1911, was finally published in 
May 1912. Both the exhibition and almanac were of seminal importance. They 
were a landmark in the history of modern art, and their impact was comparable 
to that of the Armory Show in New York in 1913. It was at this exhibition that 
Arnold Schonberg’s painting, which is now in the possession of the Library, 
was displayed, while a reproduction was included in the almanac. 

Kandinsky became acquainted with Schonberg’s music through the latter’s 
famous book Harmonielehre, which before it appeared in book form was pub¬ 
lished in installments in the Berlin periodical Die Musik in 1910. Kandinsky 
quotes from it in his book t/ber das Geistige in der Kunst . . . [On the Spiritual 
in Art], written in 1910 and published the following year, and goes on to say: 
“Schonberg’s music opens a new realm to us where musical experiences are not 
acoustical ones but experiences of the soul.” 4 What Kandinsky evidently felt to 
be the common denominator between his own art and Schonberg’s music was 
later poignantly expressed by Franz Marc, who, after listening to Schonberg’s 
music, observed: “Can you imagine a kind of music in which tonality (i.e., the 


Arnold Schonberg and the Blaue Reiter / 265 



Gabriele Munter’s 1906 portrait of Wassily Kandinsky. The Solomon R. 
Guggenheim Museum, New York. 


266 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century 



Kandinsky sketched this design in 1911 for the cover of the Blaue Reiter 
Almanac. Stddtische Galerie im Lenbachhaus, Munich. A 1912 copy of 
the almanac is in the collections of the Rare Book and Special Collections 
Division in the Library of Congress. 


to the Sixties 





use of one key) is completely absent? I was constantly reminded of Kandinsky’s 
“Large Composition” in which there is also not a trace of a key. ...” 5 

But this is not all. Kandinsky and other artists around him believed that 
there was a close relationship between music and the visual arts—so close, in¬ 
deed, that each note corresponded to a definite color; thus, music could be 
translated into painting and painting into music. Therefore, it is not by chance 
that Kandinsky frequently chose musical terms as titles for his abstract composi¬ 
tions, as in “Klange.” Kandinsky and his friends believed in the totality of art. 
For this reason the Blaue Reiter Almanac is devoted not only to the visual arts 
but also to music and the performing arts, the latter being represented by 
Kandinsky’s own dramatic piece. Significantly, he called it Der Gelbe Ton [The 
Yellow Sound], thus emphasizing the synthesis of the arts he had in mind. The 
music for this play was written by Theodor von Hartmann, a Russian composer. 

In 1912, after the appearance of Schonberg's Harmonielehre, some of his 
devoted friends compiled a small volume of testimonials in his honor which was 
published by Kandinsky’s Munich publisher, R. Piper. This book contains an 
essay by Kandinsky on Schonberg as a painter. He tells us that Schonberg pro¬ 
duced two kinds of pictures: figures or landscapes painted from nature, which 
their creator considered mere “finger exercises” and on which he placed no 
particular value, and “visions,” consisting of intuitively conceived heads, which 
he painted to give form to emotions he was unable to express through music. 
He then goes on to say: 

Schonberg does not paint in order to create a “beautiful” or a “pleasing” 
picture, but while he paints he does not actually think of the picture at all. 
His aim is not to represent an objective image but rather to fix his sub¬ 
jective “feeling,” and in order to do this he uses only such means as appear 
to him unavoidable at the moment. Not every professional painter can 
pride himself on this creative manner. . . . We see that in all of Schonberg’s 
pictures the inner desire of the artist is expressed through its correspond¬ 
ing form. Just as in his music (if I may say so as a layman) he disregards 
in his paintings everything that is superfluous (that is to say, harmful). He 
goes directly to the essential (i.e., the necessary), shunning all “beautifica¬ 
tions” and fine details. 6 

Concerning our painting, Kandinsky says: “Painted on a small piece of canvas 
(or a piece of carton), this ‘vision’ is merely a head in which only the eyes 
outlined in red speak to us strongly.” 


Arnold Schonberg and the Blaue Reiter / 267 






NEUE 






AU5STELLUNGI 

IN DER „MODERNEN GALERIE” 

VON H.THANNHAUSER THEATINER5TR. 7. 
VOM I BIS 15 DEZEMBER 1909 


itiiauo « Jf>« u. wr KW»CMtN 


Kandinsky designed this poster for the first 
exhibition of the Nene Kiinstlervereinigung 
Miinchen (“New Artists’ Association of 
Munich”) . Fondation Marguerite et Aime 
Maeght, Paris. 


268 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 







People, of course, react differently when they look at a painting. August 
Macke (1887—1914), the youngest among the contributors to the almanac, had 
helped to edit the book in its final stages. He was a man firmly rooted in this 
world. Neither Marc’s quasi-religious philosophy nor Kandinsky’s often involved 
theories concerning aesthetics and art had much appeal for him. When he re¬ 
ceived his copy of the Blaue Reiter Almanac he wrote to his friend Franz Marc, 
commenting on the book: “And finally that Schonberg. He made me really 
mad. These green-eyed watery buns [ Wasserbrotchen ] with an astral glance. I 
won’t say anything against the Self-Portrait from Behind. But do these tidbits 
[. Brockchen ] really justify all the fuss about the ‘painter’ Schonberg?” 7 

Arnold Schonberg, who painted intermittently until about 1940, does not 
have a place in the history of art, nor does he need one. His greatness as a 
musician is uncontested. Painting was for him a sideline, pursued partly as a 
diversion, partly from inner necessity. We look at his paintings with the same 
interest with which we look at the watercolors of Goethe, whom nobody would 
classify as a painter either. The Library of Congress is proud to own one of 
Schonberg’s paintings. Now that the pedigree of the picture has been reestab¬ 
lished, we hope that a future edition of the Blaue Reiter Almanac will correct 
the footnote “Now untraceable.” 8 


NOTES !• The inscription in Schonberg’s hand in the lower left reads: To Leopold Stokowski; Ar¬ 

nold Schoenberg, September 1949; that in the lower right reads: Arnold Schonberg, 16. III. 1910. 

2. Franz Marc, “Two Pictures,” in The Blaue Reiter Almanac, ed. Wassily Kandinsky and 
Franz Marc. New documentary edition ... by Klaus Lankheit (New York: Viking Press, 1974) , 
p. 69. 

3. Rosel Gollek, Der Blaue Reiter im Lenbachhaus Munchen; Katalog der Sammlung in der 
Stddtischen Galerie (Munich: Prestel-Verlag, 1974, p. 2. Author’s translation. 

4. Wassily Kandinsky, Vber das Geistige in der Kunst, insbesondere in der Malerei; mit 

acht Tafeln und zehn Originalholzschnitten (Munich: R. Piper & Co., 1912) , p. 29. Author’s 
translation. 

5. Lothar Gunther Buchheim, Der Blaue Reiter und die “Neue Kiinstlervereinigung Miin- 
chen” (Feldafing: Buchheim Verlag, 1959), p. 146. Author’s translation. 

6. Wassily Kandinsky, “Die Bilder,” in Arnold Schonberg, Arnold Schonberg (Munich: R. 
Piper & Co., 1912), pp. 59-64. Author’s translation. 

7. Buchheim, Der Blaue Reiter, p. 52. This picture, showing Schonberg from behind, walk¬ 
ing down a path, was included in both the almanac and the exhibition. Author’s translation. 

8. Kandinsky and Marc, eds.. The Blaue Reiter Almanac, p. 276, no. 85. 


Arnold Schonberg and the Blaue Reiter / 269 


The Drawings of C. K. Berryman 


by Mary R. Mearns 


Clifford Kennedy Berryman, for half a century Washington’s best known and 
most beloved graphic commentator on politics, began on January 19, 1945, the 
transfer of the corpus of his cartoons to the Library of Congress, where they 
constitute an important addition to the Cabinet of American Illustration. Thus 
far almost twelve hundred drawings have been received. When the remainder 
of those in Mr. Berryman’s home and office come to the Library, it is believed 
that the Berryman Archive will contain some five thousand sketches. Though 
there are notable small collections in other institutions, 1 a great many original 
drawings are owned by individuals. Many public figures, pleased or pricked by 
Mr. Berryman’s caricatured portraits of them, have sought the originals and 
the artist has always acceded generously to their requests. It is hoped that 
many of these widely scattered drawings eventually will find their way to the 
master collection in the Library of Congress. 

On June 1, 1945, an exhibition of cartoons illustrating the political scene 
in Washington from 1896 to 1945 was opened at the Library. It aroused and 
sustained so much public interest and pleasure that, although scheduled to re¬ 
main on view only until August 1st, it was continued until August 17th. 

Mr. Berryman’s first thought of the Library of Congress as the appropriate 
repository for the collection was aroused by a casual query from Dr. Herbert 
Putnam as they journeyed together on a streetcar, bound for desks symbolic of 
widely diverse public service. Zest for matutinal attack on each day’s duties was 
not all the two men had in common. Contrasting in appearance and personality, 
each had served some of the same constituency for nearly fifty years, each had 


270 



The Drawings of C. K. Berryman j 271 
























achieved unique distinction, each had found his keenest enjoyment in his work. 
Soon after his conversation, Mr. Berryman made up his mind ultimately to 
present the collection to the national library but gave no more attention to the 
matter until the spring of 1944 when Archibald MacLeish, then Librarian, asked 
Mr. Berryman to deposit the originals of his drawings in the Library . On January 
19, 1945, Mr. Berryman brought the first installment of the gift to the Library 
himself, and remained for an hour’s visit in the office of the Acting Librarian, 
Dr. Luther H. Evans, reminiscing about his career and sketching swiftly in pencil 
as he talked, impervious to flashlights and cameras, while a few privileged mem¬ 
bers of the staff looked on. 

The story of his career is typically American. He was born in Woodford 
County, Kentucky, on April 2, 1869, and was graduated from Professor Henry’s 
School for Boys in 1886. A talent for drawing, combined with an avid and 
amused interest in politics, was one of his youthful characteristics. At thirteen, 
he once absented himself from school in order to hear a campaign speech de¬ 
livered by Rep. Joseph C. S. Blackburn, who has been described as “chivalrous, 
courteous and gallant, withal possessed of a personality the magnetism of which 
is rarely excelled . . . petted and idolized by his constituency.” Young Berry¬ 
man apparently succumbed to “Joe" Blackburn's charm from that moment. He 
made a sketch of the gentleman and fashioned it into a bust by mounting it on 
a cigar box and trimming it with a jigsaw which he had purchased from his 
earnings as a clerk in the country store. A few years later, Blackburn, who had 
become a senator, chanced upon it in the office of Clifford’s uncle. Impressed by 
the lad’s abilities as a draftsman, he arranged for him (then seventeen years of 
age) to come to Washington to a position in the Patent Office at thirty dollars 
a month. 

Once on the spot, the youthful Berryman found time to study the folk habits 
of Capitol Hill and to record his impressions in humorous sketches drawn for 
his own enjoyment. Moreover, he contrived to inform himself of the work of 
the foremost caricaturists as represented in the pages of Puck and Fudge, mak¬ 
ing a weekly investment of ten cents for each new number as it was published. 
Unconsciously but effectively, he was preparing himself for a field of endeavor 
just beginning to develop. 

William Murrell has written that “it was not until the middle and late 
nineties that cartoons became a regular feature in a few of the great American 
daily newspapers,” although they had occasionally appeared as early as 1872 

272 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 



and “first became a force through Walt McDougall’s efforts in the New York 
World at the end of the presidential campaign in 1884.” 2 In 1891 Mr. Berry- 

Above right :Berryman s view of the man a cartoon to j-frg Washington Post for twenty-five dollars; it proved 

Balkan hostilities, July 28, 1914. 6 7 r 

so successful that shortly thereafter his cartoons began to appear regularly in 

the pages of this newspaper. In January 1907 he joined the staff of The Evening 

and Sunday Star where for nearly forty years he delighted daily in an arch 

examination of the political fabric in the making, isolating a thread or two for 

discussion with, and approval of, his colleagues before turning to his drawing 

board and composing the final product. 


The Drawings of C. K. Berryman / 273 



































A few weeks after arriving in Washington, he met Miss Kate G. Durfee, who 
seven years later was to become Mrs. Clifford Berryman. They were honored 
on their fiftieth wedding anniversary, July 5, 1943, by the Corcoran Gallery of 
Art with a reception and an exhibition of some three hundred Berryman car¬ 
toons. His daughter. Miss Florence Berryman, is known for her art notes; and 
his son, James, who inherited his father’s pencil penchant to so remarkable 
a degree, alternated with him in supplying Washington daily with a visual 
editorial. Mr. Berryman says pridefully of his son, “He has had lessons, he is a 
superior draftsman and can portray action.” His own father had talent, too, Mr. 
Berryman recalls, but his sketches were not preserved, to his son’s everlasting 
disappointment. 

Mr. Berryman’s sense of responsibility in the exercise of his great talents 
has given a special character to his work. In 1926 he declared in an address de¬ 
livered at the School of Journalism of the University of Missouri: 

There is nothing in our modern life so alarming as the power which 
reckless and dissolute talent has to make virtuous life seem provincial and 
ridiculous, vicious life graceful and metropolitan. The cartoonist’s pencil 
cannot, however, defeat a good measure. Caricature is powerless against an 
administration that is honest and competent; powerless against a public 
official who does his duty in his place. 

Certainly, his smiling caricatures could be drawn only by a genial, smiling 
man; his technique of emphasizing rather than exaggerating the salient char¬ 
acteristics of his subjects is the mark of his lack of malice; 3 the fluent sweep 
of his major strokes indicates his generous spirit; his enthusiasm for each diurnal 
episode is reflected in work at once fresh and charming and (by reason of it's 
contemporaneity) historically important. He has an ability unsurpassed to 
catch likenesses 4 and to endow a figure or countenance with emotional quality. 
One cartoon, typical of many others, appeared on December 17, 1944. Former 
Senator Clark (opposing the nomination of Archibald MacLeish as an assistant 
secretary of state) is reading uncomprehendingly the lines “and watched in¬ 
finities of things careen with shouted laughter down the startled air” and point¬ 
ing a derisive finger at the distinguished author who, seated dejectedly on the 
floor, gives actual meaning to his words in an appearance of reluctant and 
puzzled disillusion. 

Stark and sudden national tragedy endowed the cartoon of April 12, 1945, 
274 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Tarn of the Century to the Sixties 


with unequalled dramatic force. This commended Vice President Truman’s de¬ 
votion to duty as president of the Senate and hence his presence on the floor of 
the Senate chamber two days earlier when the administration needed help in 
breaking a tie vote on the Taft amendment to the bill for extending Lend Lease. 
It appeared in The Star an hour or two before word of Franklin Delano Roose¬ 
velt’s tragic death flashed to an incredulous world. The man pictured as a 
schoolboy receiving Professor Barkley’s approval for good behavior was destined 
to be sworn in as president of the United States a few hours later! 

Both of the drawings described above are privately owned. A few others, 
selected from the Library’s collection, are reproduced in this issue as examples 
from other periods of Mr. Berryman’s long career. Several more, also selected 
from the Library’s collection, are described here to illustrate Mr. Berryman’s 
humor, his adept use of familiar literary simile, his light treatment of tense 
moments in party affairs, his sense of international import, his presentation of 
labor problems, and his whimsy: 

Mama ( F. D. R.) returns from a vacation to find her small boy and girl 
(Senate and House) greeting her with welcome signs, smirks, and flowers 
amidst the shambles of broken mirrors, careened furniture, smashed vases, 
and portraits desecrated with ink—testimony to their brattish behavior 
during her absence. (April 13, 1934). 

Bloated, disheveled, mammoth in size, Alice (labeled Deficit) slumps in an 
easy chair indulging herself with a bottle of disastrous Recovery Expendi¬ 
ture while tiny white rabbit Douglas (Director of the Budget) wails, “The 
trouble is I can’t make her stop drinking.” (December 30, 1933.) 

Roosevelt watches the heels of the Democratic mule and the havoc they’ve 
wrought: broken fence, crashed flower pots, and overturned barrels, as he 
explains, “All I said was ‘Gimme six more Justices’.” (March 9, 1937.) 

Chamberlain is shown flinging away his umbrella to reach for a sturdy cane- 
length club from a nearby rack, exclaiming, “I have carried that thing 
too long.” (March 20, 1939). 

Ferdinand the Bull as Anti Strike Legislation is kept contented and smiling 
by F. D. R. who pats him while matadors Lewis, Murray and Kennedy 
tease for a fight in spite of the President’s protest, “If you boys keep that 
up, I’m not going to be responsible for Ferdinand any longer.” (Novem¬ 
ber 13, 1941.) 

A large squirrel with his nuts under his paws for provident burial tells 


The Drawings of C. K. Berryman / 275 


Conant, Baruch and Compton seated on a bench in Lafayette Park, non¬ 
plussed by a mandate from the President to get some rubber, “Looks like 
a hard winter, boys, you’d better get going.’’ (August 9, 1942.) 

House in hunter’s garb with a large game pouch ( U. S. Budget) on his hip 
says, “Watch me bring down a big bag” as he trains his blunderbuss on a 
puny bird ( Government Clerk) on a distant limb though swollen beasts 
—Pork, Veteran and Farm Relief, and State A id— cluster at his very knees. 
(April 27, 1932.) 

Clifford Berryman has used many of the symbols originated by famous early 
political cartoonists whose work appeared in weekly and monthly serials, notably 
those of Sir John Tenniel: the Eagle, the Russian Bear, the British Lion, the 
New Year; and those of Thomas Nast: the G. O. P. Elephant, the Tammany 
Tiger, the “ragbaby” of inflation and the cap and dinner pail emblematic of 
labor. He has created many of his own: Miss Democracy, a giggling, befrilled, 
cork-screw-curled spinster; the District of Columbia, a stalwart male in eigh¬ 
teenth-century dress; the Squash Center farmers; and, most widely known, the 
Teddy Bear. Both the people of Squash Center and their setting were sug¬ 
gested by real characters who assembled around the stove in the country store 
in Kentucky where Mr. Berryman, aged twelve, once measured sugar and flour. 
Over and over again he has sketched these homely and homespun persons, loaf¬ 
ing, smoking, and commenting shrewdly on the news of the day. 

Mark Sullivan in Our Times has given an account of the origin of the 
Teddy Bear: 

On November 10, 1902, Roosevelt went on a bear hunt in Mississippi. 
While he was in camp near Smedes, Miss., a newspaper dispatch described 
him as refusing to shoot a small bear that had been brought into camp for 
him to kill. The cartoonist of the Washington POST, Clifford K. Berryman, 
pictured the incident. For one reason or another, whimsical or symbolic, 
the public saw in the bear episode a quality that it pleased to associate with 
Roosevelt’s personality. The “Teddy-bear”, beginning with Berryman’s 
original cartoon, was repeated thousands of times and printed literally 
thousands of millions of times; in countless variations, pictorial and verbal, 
prose and verse; on the stage and in political debate; in satire or in humor¬ 
ous friendliness. Toy-makers took advantage of its vogue: it became more 
common in the hands of children than the woolly lamb. For Republican 


276 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 



Above: March 17, 1917. 

Above right: World War I. 

Mr. Berryman has plied his pencil so industriously through the years that 
he has found time to illustrate many works, 5 including possibly two dozen Grid¬ 
iron Club dinner souvenirs. Satirical tidbits for those thousands denied entree to 
Gridiron Club dinners have been provided nearly a hundred times by Mr. 
Berryman through his cartoon reports in The Washington Post and The Star. 
A monument both to his industry and to his ability to gauge and project per¬ 
sonality is Berryman’s Cartoons of the 58th House; a Collection of Original 
Sketches of the Complete Membership . . . Washington, D. C., 1903. 6 

Many honors have been conferred upon him. Perhaps he has delighted most 
in membership in the Gridiron Club, “the most famous dining club in the 
world,” organized by Washington correspondents whose object has been stated 


conventions, and meetings associated with Roosevelt, the “Teddy-bear” 
became the standard decoration, more in evidence than the eagle and only 
less usual than the Stars and Stripes. (Vol. II, p. 445.) 


The Drawings of C. K. Berryman / 277 
























Above: In Honor of the Birthday of “Uncle” “to prevent” pompous persons “from taking themselves too seriously.” He has 

Joseph G. Cannon, May 7, 1922. a valuable collection of letters and memorabilia from notables, including the 

Above right: 1923. eight presidents of the United States from Theodore Roosevelt to Harry S. 

Truman. 

In May 1944, he won a Pulitzer Prize for his cartoon of August 28, 1943, 
But Where is the Boat Going? which presented the “manpower mobilization 
muddle.” A dinghy is shown crowded with seven sturdy male figures in sailor 
togs. Congress, in the bow, wants to drop the Ban-on-draft-of-fothers anchor 
while McNutt restrains him. Hershey, Green and Murray pull oars on the port 
side, while Lewis, towering and glowering above them on the starboard side, is 
not lending a hand. Captain F. D. R. nonchalantly smokes a cigarette (in the 
inevitable long holder) standing in the stern and gazing serenely at his fractious 
crew. 

The boyhood admiration aroused by Senator Blackburn has remained con¬ 
stant, for Mr. Berryman today wears flowing bow ties and modified sombreros 


278 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 























identical in style with those worn by the Kentucky legislator. He, too, has be¬ 
come “idolized by his constituency.” Perhaps some of the qualities for which 
Blackburn was beloved have been bequeathed as a spiritual legacy to his 
protege. Magnetism, modesty and generosity are conspicuous in his nature. He 
is majestic yet benign, an individualist wholly without guile or affectation, a 
busy man, with time for “people.” Spontaneity seems to motivate his life and 
work. He has given continuously: laughs, ideas, drawings, time, and talent, not 
only to the Gridiron Club but to lesser groups and causes. It never occurred to 
him to copyright the Teddy Bear though he might have profited richly. “I have 
made thousands of children happy; that is enough for me,” is one of his re¬ 
sponses to the “Why not?”. 

There are those, and they are legion, who recognize in this gentle, deflat¬ 
ing critic a force which incisively, intelligently and with vast good humor, is 
forever restoring American feet to the ground where they belong. 


NOTES h Among these are the British Museum, Corcoran Gallery of Art, Folger Shakespeare Li¬ 

brary, Franklin D. Roosevelt Library, Flenry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery, U.S. Su¬ 
preme Court, University of Idaho, University of Missouri, and the University of Texas, as well 
as numerous clubs and public offices. 

2. A History of American Graphic Humor (1865-1938). vol. II, (Macmillan, 1938), pp. 129-30. 

3. In Mr. Berryman’s cherished collection of signed photographs is one from William Howard 
Taft inscribed, “To the cartoonist who resisted always the common temptation to exaggerate a 
corporosity already too large and who made me better looking than I was.” 

4. Will Rogers once joined an audience to which Mr. Berryman was giving one of his 
famous “chalk talks.” When prodded to speak to the group he finally acquiesced with the com.- 
ment that “These drawings are excellent, you can recognize the people.” He told of having 
watched another cartoonist who “couldn’t even tell you himself who he was sketching.” 

5. Among them are: his own “Development of the Cartoon,” in University of Missouri 
Bulletin, Journalism Series, no. 41 (June 7, 1926) ; Arthur Wallace Dunn’s Gridiron Nights; 
Louis Ludlow’s From Cornfield to Press Gallery, and In the Heart of Hoosierland; J. Hampton 
Moore’s Roosevelt and the Old Guard; Pictorial History of the Schley Court of Inquiry, repro¬ 
duced from The Washington Post; O. O. Stealey’s Twenty Years in the Press Gallery; Charlotte 
Stellwagen’s Mrs. Andrew Johnson Jones’ Handmaid; and Jean Wilson’s Dovey Sary. 

6. Mr. Macon of Arkansas is said to have defied the artist to portray him and to have 
refused to supply him with a picture. He is sketched behind his desk with only his hands and 
one elbow showing. 


The Drawings of C. K. Berryman / 279 


Portrait of the Artist in Love With the Book 


by Fritz Eichenberg 


Looking back is fraught with danger—as Lot’s wife learned to her chagrin. An 
artist, looking back over forty years of living with, in, and off books of all 
descriptions, sees a long column of them stretching well into his dim past, an 
awesome sight which could easily turn him into a pillar of salt. There are nearly 
a hundred books to which this artist has lent his hand and mind and heart, not 
all of them worth preserving or talking about. 

My assignment, however, is to talk about the Artist and the Book, and I 
must stand or fall on my record, those solidly bound pieces of evidence on many 
bookshelves across the country. 

No doubt, the book and I were made for each other. There has never been 
a dull or lonely moment in my life when a book could keep me company. From 
the moment I could read I became totally committed and addicted to books. 
They were to me friends and teachers, a constant source of inspiration, joy, and 
solace, and incidentally of work and bread and sometimes butter. 

My reading was wild and untutored. What poured out of the pages of my 
odd collection of borrowed books and into my mind was a fantastic procession 
of characters, players in the great tragicomedy we call life. To me books are like 
a stage and I watch with endless fascination the actors coming out of the wings 
and slipping into the pages of my books. My books, I say with a bow to the 
authors whose words I try to interpret visually and reverently. 

Infinitely varied are the ingredients that make up an artist. 

In my case, I guess they are an odd mixture, composed of an all too graphic 


280 



“And she became a pillar of salt,” wood 
engraving by Fritz Eichenberg for the Old 
Testament. (Pennell Collection, Prints and 
Photographs Division) 


mind, a love for the drama and the comedy, an insatiable curiosity about people 
of all kinds, and the urge to study and recreate their images. Add to this a love 
for men and beasts, for all living organisms, for plants and trees, for sand and 
rocks, for clouds and waves, and for the music and the poetry of the drama of 
life—full of pathos and savagery, often redeemed by laughter and compassion. 

I was born with a graphic mind and a graphic eye, with ink in my blood 
and on my fingers—a gregarious introvert. The print has always been my 
medium, perhaps because it is such an ideal companion to the printed letter. I 
always thought in black and white, and soon discovered the infinite variety of 
shades between the two. The excitement of lifting a piece of paper off the inked 
surface of a block, creating a multiple image, has never worn off. To see my 
engravings in the matchless company of letters, each a little symbol in itself, 
within the covers of a book that goes out into the world to seek friends—and in¬ 
fluence people—continues to be a memorable experience. 

Perhaps my love for trees and rocks made me quite naturally turn to the 
woodblock and the lithographic stone. I never cared for the cold glitter of the 
copper plate because I never cared for the metallic gadgets of our machine age. 

To me a book is not just a succession of printed pages on which a story is 
unfolding. The ideal book is a work of art, a vessel perfectly made to fit its con¬ 
tents, a pleasure to hold, to cherish, and to possess. As a harmonious whole, it 
becomes a thing of beauty and permanence. A book poorly made is like an ill- 
fitting suit, embarrassing to the tailor and the wearer. A book poorly bound 
opens reluctantly; you have to fight it in order to read it. A book poorly printed 
hurts the eye; poorly designed, it offends your senses. I believe that books seek 
out their readers—and their illustrators. 

Books helped me through the worst years of my childhood and adolescence, 
coinciding with years of war and depression. Ill at ease in a world at odds with 
all the fine and noble things I hungered for, I met up with Kafka and Dostoevsky 
who had dealt creatively with the same problems that tortured me. I submerged 
my fears and doubts in the savage humor of Voltaire and Swift, of de Coster 
and Grimmelshausen. To live by your wits in a world turned upside down, not 
to despair but to make the best of “this best of all possible worlds,” was a lesson 
never to be forgotten. 

Here were human beings who understood my own predicament—the Raskol- 
nikoffs and Candides, the Gullivers and the Ulenspiegels—a motley crew among 
whom I managed to grow up. And so it happened that the first books I ever 
illustrated were Tyll Ulenspiegel, Gulliver’s Travels, and Crime and Punish- 


Portrait of the Artist in Love with the Book / 281 



merit. They were published while I was still a student at the Academy of Graphic 
Arts in Leipzig. 

Predestination? Coincidence? Who knows. Ten years later, starting a new 
life in the New World, it was again Tyll Ulenspiegel, Gulliver’s Travels, and 
Crime and Punishment which came my way, this time with a new challenge to 
an artist somewhat more mature and better able to cope with his task. 

Illustration is a bad word these days, debased by ill-usage. This is one of 
the reasons why I would rather be called a graphic artist, a book artist, an 
artist in search of characters. 

Many books have crossed my path. Publishers may believe they have a 
hand in this, which is true up to a point. But I believe that books seek me out, 
stop me, fascinate me, often torture me. Their characters surround me, hold me, 
seduce me. If that sound like the beginning of a passionate affair, that’s what it 
is. 

This is how I met Cathy and Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights, that is how 
I got involved with Jane Eyre, Eugene Onegin, and Tatyana, with Bazarov in 
Fathers and Sons, with Tolstoi’s princes and prostitutes, and with all those saints 
and sinners, the chaste and the passionate, the devils and the redeemers, that 
file past your eyes in an eloquent procession out of the pages of The Brothers 
Karamazov. 

Only recently, on my first trip to the USSR for the State Department, I met 
my characters in the flesh, right out of Tolstoi and Dostoevsky, in the dark 
streets of Moscow, on the embankment of the Neva, on a park bench in Kiev, 
around the Cathedral of Alma Ata, a sleepy frontier town in Kazakhstan. But 
the acid test came when thousands of Russians looked at my illustrations and 
found in them what I had hoped to have captured: the spirit of their great writ¬ 
ers, the soul of their people. 

There are other books that cross your path: Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe, 
the Bible, each challenging one’s capacity for understanding the human tragedy 
and translating it into what one hopes are meaningful images. And to provide 
needed relief from these heavy burdens, one can always try another children’s 
book, for your child, for everybody’s children. 

Here we come to the questions most frequently asked of the illustrator: How 
do you grapple with a book? Where do you start? Why do you prefer certain 
passages to others, one medium to another? 

In the beginning is the word! You read the book, once, twice, three times; 
you absorb it, it absorbs you. You slip into the time, the place, the characters. 

282 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 



“You . . . make thumbnail sketches. . . . 

Every bit of the environment becomes im¬ 
portant. . . .” Some of the ornaments sketched 
here are reflected in designs for half titles and 
headpieces in The Brothers Karamazov (The 
Limited Editions Club, The George Alacy 
Companies, Inc.). 


Your interest widens. You read books about the author and the background of 
his time. You explore the special problems he was concerned with—the Patriotic 
Wars of 1812, the political exile system of Czarist Russia, as Tolstoi studied them 
for his War and Peace and for Resurrection. This is the test whether or not the 
book is meant for you. Does it hold your interest as you work your way into it 
or does it begin to pall? 

You begin to discover things you had overlooked at first reading. You take 
notes while you read, make thumbnail sketches. You note details of the passing 
of seasons, of time and places. Every bit of the environment becomes important, 
the native landscape, the trees and plants, the furniture and the architecture of 
the period. 

You set the stage, the actors are waiting in the wings, the spotlights are 
turned on, the actors emerge, take their places, and begin to act. The artist is 
the director, the stage and costume designer. He must take an interest in the 
actors’ makeup, their hairdo, their acting methods. He recreates the illusion of 
the stage on his woodblock or in any other graphic medium, a trompe l’oeil 
finally achieved on a little square of paper in the printed book. After accumu¬ 
lating hundreds of sketches, the conception of the total book slowly emerges— 
the format, a type face that fits the mood of the book and the character of the 
illustrations. The title page, the half title, the chapter headings, the end paper, 
the binding—everything must work together to give form and shape to what one 
hopes for, the perfect book. 

Now the final choice of the illustrations has to be made. They must cover 
the most significant parts of the story without overwhelming it. They must also 
be distributed as evenly as possible throughout the text pages. 

The artist decides on wood engraving as the most appropriate medium to 
carry the mood of the story. The drawings are rendered onto the woodblocks, 
then the engraving begins. Months go by in steady absorbing work; the pile of 
blocks begins to mount, waiting to be printed. 

The proofing finally begins. The first prints are peeled off the inked blocks. 
Battle fatigue sets in; they are invariably disappointing. Corrections are made, 
new proofs are pulled, until finally one can’t hold out any longer; the deadline 
is approaching. These are the final agonies of a working artist, to let go of his 
work knowing he could and should have done better. Then comes the great 
hangover. Your work is in the hands of the printer, and you know in your heart 
he is going to mistreat the fruits of your labors. Rare is the artist who does not 
suspect that the publisher will conspire with the compositor, the printer, and the 


Portrait of the Artist in Love with the Book / 283 






• s-lfeyy 


Sketches by Fritz Eichenberg, from among 
the hundreds an artist accumulates for a book. 



284 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 



















Lithograph by Fritz Eichenberg for The 
Brothers Karamazov (copyright © 1933 and 
1949 by The Limited Editions Club for The 
George Macy Companies, Inc.). Reproduced by 
permission. 



binder to cut corners and shatter the artist’s dreams of the perfect book. Despite 
it all, the book is published and goes out into the world. And foolishly one feels 
like a proud old fossil when over the years people, young and old, begin to tell 
you how they grew up with your illustrations, which helped them to under¬ 
stand better what the Brontes, Dostoevsky, and others tried to express in prose. 
Then your head will swell to twice its size. Of course, you’ll never hear from 
those people who despise illustrators and resent their interpretations. 

Much of this is based on the plain fact that illustration has fallen on bad 
times. Too many vices of omission and incompetence have been committed. This 
becomes sadily evident when one looks back over the proud history of the book 


Portrait of the Artist in Love with the Book / 285 




The woodcut of the engraver (somewhat 
enlarged) is taken from Hartmann Schopper’s 
well-known book devoted to various occupa¬ 
tions and skills. The little volume, with 
numerous woodcuts executed by Jost Amman, 
appeared at Frankfurt-am-Main in 1568. 
(Rosenwald Collection) 


which encompasses man’s recorded history. Has the illuminator of today, the 
illustrator, the type designer, the printer improved upon Schedel’s Weltchronik, 
Gutenberg's Bible, or Aldus Manutius’s Hypnerotomachia Poliphili, made four 
centuries ago? 

Where are the generous patrons of the arts who could commission great 
artists to create the Weisskunig and the Theuerdank, as Emperor Maximilian 
did 400 years ago, to his and the artists’ eternal glory? There are a few oases in 
the cultural desolation of our century. Perhaps someone should have knighted 
Ambroise Vollard who earned his share of immortality through forty years of 
cajoling and inspiring France’s great peintres-graveurs to produce the most 
beautiful books of our time. 

The fine press book seems dead. Here and there we find some scattered 
notable efforts, comparable to the Cranach and the Bremer presses in Germany, 
to Teriade and Skira in France, to a few other printers and publishers in 
Switzerland, and a few in this country. 

True, there are some enterprising publishers, galleries, and perhaps a few 
university presses who seem to be willing to experiment with illustrated books 
and portfolios a la Vollard, but they are too few and far between. At present 
some of the best books are published, produced, designed, and illustrated by a 
small group of artists who got tired of seeing the quality of their work com¬ 
promised by indifferent handling. 

If every responsible publisher in this country would venture to produce 
one really fine book a year—a book to be enjoyed in our time and to be left as a 
precious heritage to those who come after us—he would not only find a wealth 
of talented artists, gifted writers, good printers, and skilled designers willing and 
eager to cooperate, but he would also discover the venture to be a most reward¬ 
ing experience culturally and, who knows, in the end economically as well. Fine 
books, in the long run, have proved to be more durable than stocks and bonds. 


286 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 
















































Max Beckmann—Day and Dream 


by Karen F. Beall 


One of the commanding figures in twentieth-century art is Max Beckmann 
(1884—1950). His success began at a remarkably early age and at the time of 
his death he was widely honored internationally. Subjects for his pre-Expression- 
ist paintings ranged from small portraits to current cataclysmic events and in¬ 
cluded mythological and religious themes as well. But service with the German 
medical corps during World War I affected him deeply. In the wards and 
operating rooms, horror confronted him daily, and he sketched what he saw. 
From that time on, his work underwent great stylistic changes—changes he him¬ 
self saw reflected in his images when he said: “My pictures reproach God for his 
errors.” 

His life might be divided into three broad segments: 1884-1937, spent in his 
native Germany; the prewar, war, and immediate postwar years, spent in the 
Netherlands; and the last three years of his life, divided between St. Louis and 
New York City. 

For Max Beckmann’s work labels seem inappropriate. He was unyielding in 
his frank means of expression, and the iconography of his work is exceedingly 
complicated. Carl Zigrosser states it well in his brief paragraph on the artist 
published in The Expressionists in 1957, when he says that Beckmann’s “all con¬ 
suming passion for self-realization and self-expression [is] an expression of a 
very special kind: the projection of his own concept of the world he lived in. 
This intuition of his could not rest content with a mirror-image of outward 
appearance but must penetrate beyond to a universal reality.” 1 


287 



Beckmann related strongly to artists of the past. Among the first to in¬ 
fluence him was Rembrandt van Rijn, but he studied masters of all periods in¬ 
cluding his immediate predecessors. By the time the First World War began— 
when he was only thirty—he had enjoyed considerable success and a monograph 
had been published listing some 125 of his painted works. 2 

Greater success followed during the 1920s. Another monograph appeared 
in 1924, the list of friends and patrons was growing and impressive, and his 
activity as artist and teacher was extraordinary. By the late twenties and early 
thirties he was dividing his time between teaching in Frankfurt and working in 
his studio in Paris. In 1931 the Museum of Modern Art in New York included 
eight of his works in an exhibition of German art. At the same time a second 
show was arranged in New York, at J. B. Neumann’s, and a third at the Kestner 
Gesellschaft in Hanover. It was in this year, too, that the National Gallery in 
Berlin established a “Beckmann room,” a rare honor, indeed. 3 

But 1933 brought Nazi power and with it the denunciation of Max Beck¬ 
mann as one of the “degenerate artists,” resulting in the loss of his post at the 
Stadelsches Kunstinstitut. He left Frankfurt but remained in Germany, residing 
in relative seclusion in Berlin until 1937. During these tense and difficult years 
some five hundred of his works were removed from German museums. 

On July 19, 1937, the day following Hitler’s opening of the Grosse Deutsche 
Kunst Ausstellung (the great German art exhibition) , an exhibition in Munich 
entitled Entartete Kunst (degenerate art) opened, which included ten of Beck¬ 
mann’s major works. Hitler had declared that artists ‘distorting nature would do 
so either out of defiance against the state, in which case criminal punishment 
would be in order, or because of mechanical malfunctioning of the eye, which, 
being hereditary, would call for sterilization.” 4 On July 20 Beckmann boarded 
a train for Amsterdam. He never returned. 

The next ten years, also spent in relative isolation in his studio-residence, 
were highly productive ones. In 1938 Curt Valentin arranged an exhibition at 
the Buchholz Gallery in New York. The importance of Beckmann’s alliance with 
Valentin, which was interrupted by the war and not resumed until 1945, will 
become apparent. 

When Beckmann w r ent to the Netherlands it was not his intention to remain 
permanently but to move on, either to Paris or to the United States. The out¬ 
break of war prevented any move. There is a poignant note (here in translation 
as given by Selz) entered in the artist’s diary on May 4, 1940: “America is wait¬ 
ing for me with a job in Chicago, yet the American consulate here issues no 

288 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 


Self-portrait from Day and Dream ( 1946) by 
Max Beckmann. This and other reproductions 
from Day and Dream used with permission of 
Mrs. Max Beckmann. 



Max Beckman—Day and Dream / 289 










visa.” 5 Within a few days the Nazis were in Amsterdam. 

Beckmann remained in the Netherlands until 1947, when he left to accept 
a post teaching at Washington University in St. Louis. Following the summer of 
1949, when he taught at the University of Colorado, he moved to New York 
City, where he spent the last year of his life teaching at the Brooklyn Museum 
Art School. A favorite pastime was walking in Central Park and it was there on 
the morning of December 27, 1950, on his daily walk, that Max Beckmann died. 

In March 1967 Beckmann’s widow offered to give to the Library of Con¬ 
gress the set of fifteen master lithographic sheets for the series ‘‘Day and Dream,” 
originally called “Time-Motion.” These are pen and tusche drawings made on 
transfer paper, a paper especially prepared with a coating of a soluble layer of 
starch and albumin. The stone to which the drawing on the paper is to be 
transferred is placed in a press and warmed. Then the surface is moistened and 
the transfer impressions are placed face down on top. With the correct degree 
of pressure the image adheres to the stone. 6 There is less spontaneity in the 
final lithographs than in the drawings, because the free pencil lines in the draw¬ 
ing and some of the lighter crayon strokes are lost in the transfer process. 

The idea of a portfolio came from Curt Valentin, who had published a 
number of them for other artists. These were not designed to be great money¬ 
making ventures but rather were promotional in nature. Prints are an excellent 
vehicle for this purpose, for they are relatively inexpensive and permit greater 
distribution inasmuch as they are multiple originals. The nature of the port¬ 
folio’s contents was left entirely to Beckmann. Valentin suggested a folio of ten 
or more prints, either lithographs or etchings. He offered in a letter of March 
14, 1946, to supply the necessary copperplates should they be unavailable in the 
Netherlands and should the artist choose to etch the series. On April 5 Beck¬ 
mann wrote that he was already working on the “lithos,” referring to them as 
“Time-Motion.” 7 On April 28 he wrote that they “promise to be very good,” 
and on May 9 he wrote that they were drawn on transfer paper and that sample 
impressions were good. He asked if perhaps he should have them pulled in 
the Netherlands so that he could supervise the printing and urged that they 
be done quickly, as the fresher drawings print better. He asked for authorization 
to have the edition pulled without Valentin’s having seen them, stressing that 
since each item had to be signed and numbered in pencil by him, printing them 
in New York would require two additional ocean crossings before the folios 
could be finally assembled. He said further that if given permission he would 
have the lithographic firm bill Valentin directly. By mid-May a cable came from 


290 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 


Detail from Weather-Vane shows inking that 
was later lost in the transfer process. 



Valentin as follows: “Lithographs edition one hundred numbered and signed 
use best paper no special edition print in Holland will come in July.” 8 A letter 
followed saying that the title page and table of contents were ready in New 
York. 

There are a number of references to the portfolio in the Beckmann diaries. 
June 24, 1946: “Also, die Litho’s, ‘Time-Motion’ 15 Stuck endgiiltig fertig.—Na 
Gott sei Dank.—Glaube sind ganz gut geworden. ...” 9 (So, the lithos “Time- 
Motion” finally finished. Thank God. Think they are quite good.) The entry on 
July 22 indicates that the printing has been completed, for he spent the entire 
day signing the lithographs: “. . . Sonst den ganzen Tag noch Litho’s New York 
signiert. . . .” 10 Valentin visited the artist on July 14 but could not have picked 
up the completed sets. In a letter of October 11 Valentin wrote: “We are work¬ 
ing on the portfolio but unfortunately, the lithographs are still at the customs 


Max Beckman—Day and Dream / 291 





Weather-Vane drawing Wather-Vane lithograph 


292 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 



and will probably remain there for a while due to the trucking strike. But in the 
meantime the covers will be finished, and the title page and index is already 
printed. I have forgotten how many sets you kept, please let me know so that I 
can send you the same amount of title pages and covers.” 11 He evidently kept 
ten, as the edition is numbered 1-90. 

On November 9 Valentin wrote: “For several reasons I have decided sud¬ 
denly to show the Actors and Death and Birth beginning next Monday for 
three weeks—I hope you do not mind. It is not an exhibition which I expect to 
sell well, and I am not showing any other paintings, just the drawings, water- 
colors and fifteen lithographs. By the way, the cover and title page for Day and 
Dream will be mailed to you today.” 12 This show opened on November 19. The 
small catalog which announced it stated: “Day and Dream has just been issued 
in an edition of 100 copies. Each lithograph is signed and numbered by the 
artist.” The price of the portfolio was $ 125, an incredibly low figure in terms of 
today’s market, on which not even one of the fifteen prints could be bought at 
that price. 

To attempt to untangle the iconography of each image would be a difficult 
and uncertain thing. Harold Joachim is quoted as saying: ‘‘Beckmann’s sym¬ 
bolism is completely expressed in pictorial terms which he himself found im¬ 
possible to put into words.” 13 To try to find continuity in the series is frustrat¬ 
ing, and the attempt was abandoned after reading the artists’s letter of February 
28 and March 1, 1946, in which he responds to Valentin’s initial suggestion of 
a portfolio. Beckmann proposes in the passage which follows that the prints be 
lithographs and says that he has many ideas from which one could make a 
series. He suggests that the motifs could be biblical, mythological, theatrical, or 
of.circus or cafe life. Or, he adds, it could be an ‘‘all-in-one thing,” a title for 
which could easily be found. Evidently this last idea is the one that was de¬ 
veloped. 


Der Grund aber wesw r egen ich die Feder ansetze sind die Lithos. Sie sind 
auf Umdruckpapier gezeichnet und ein Probedruck in der Technik in der 
ich eben arbeite, gab gute Resultate. Ich kann Ihnen die 10 Zeichnungen 
schicken und sie konnen sie in New York drucken lassen, aber sie sind 
dann nicht gezeichnet. Sie miissten also die gesamte Auflage wieder hierher 
senden, was bei den heutigen Dingen mit endlosen Schwierigkeiten verknupft 
ist. Ebenso, das Riickschicken. Ausserdem ist es wichtig, dass die Zeich 
nungen bald und unter meiner Controlle gedruckt werden, je frischer um 


Max Beckman—Day and Dream / 293 


so besser komen sie im Druck. Probeabziige kann ich nicht schicken ohne 
ihre [sic] Einwilligung, denn das heisst, dass die Umdrucke dann hier schon 
auf Stein sind—also nicht mehr transportfahig. 14 


The thirteen drawings reproduced on the 
following pages complete the Day and Dream 
portfolio. 


Each sheet in the portfolio measures 40 by 30 centimeters. The table of 
contents lists fifteen lithographs as follows: 


Self portrait I 
Weather-vane II 
Sleeping athlete III 
Tango IV 
Crawling woman V 


I don’t want to eat my soup VI 
Dancing couple VII 
King and demagogue VIII 
The buck IX 
Dream of war X 


Morning XI 
Circus XII 
Magic mirror XIII 
The fall of man XIV 
Christ and Pilate XV 


The Roman numerals appear on each sheet below the image at center. At 
the left, also below, is the edition note, in this case 23/90; each lithograph is 
signed “Beckmann” at the lower right. No marks of any other kind appear on 
either the recto or the verso of the sheets and none of the paper bears a water¬ 
mark. (This is odd as Valentin expressly requested that each sheet be stamped 
“Printed in Holland.”) 

Subject matter includes all of the categories mentioned by Beckmann in his 
letter referred to earlier. “I don’t want to eat my soup” illustrates the poem 
from Heinrich Hoffmann’s Struwelpeter about the boy who didn’t want to eat 
for four days and on the fifth day he was dead. Perhaps “Magic mirror” is Beck¬ 
mann’s interpretation of the Grimm brothers’ story about Snow White. “Dream 
of war” is just that and carries the inscription “I came back” on the image. 
This is a reflection, just after World War II, on World War I. “Dancing couple” 
is a scene from cafe life, “Christ and Pilate” speaks for itself, as does “The fall of 
man” and, for the most part, the other titles. The subjects from this folio are a 
fair representation of Beckmann’s choice throughout his career. He was not a 
landscapist or still life artist but dwelt rather on the not quite real world of 
people. On the whole, the set is cheerless and rather brooding. Perhaps Beck¬ 
mann, no longer in the best of health, was looking back over his life and at the 
various elements that had, in one way or another, played some part in it. 

They are strong drawings—in keeping with the artist’s feeling that a draw¬ 
ing should be taken as a completed work of art and not merely a study for some 
more impressive work. The Library is happy to announce this important ac¬ 
quisition. 


294 / Prints, Drawings , and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 



Max Beckman-Day and Dream / 295 















































































Magic Mirror 


296 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Tarn of the Century to the Sixties 



























































Sleeping athlete 



Max Beckman—Day and Dream / 297 












Circus 


298 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 

















I don’t want to eat my soup 


Max Beckman—Day and Dream / 299 












































Dream of War 

300 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 



























































































































































































The fall of man 



Crawling woman 


Max Beckman—Day and Dream / 301 



























King and demagogue 



Tango 


302 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 




























NOTES 


1. Carl Zigrosser, The Expressionists: A Survey of Their Graphic Art, text by Carl Zigrosser 
(New York: 1957) . p. 26. 

2. Peter Selz, Max Beckmann, with contributions by Harold Joachim and Perry' T. Rathbone 
(New York: 1964), p. 9. 

3. Ibid., p. 47. 

4. Ibid., p. 62. 

5. Ibid., p. 73. 

6. Felix Brunner, A Handbook of Graphic Reproduction Processes (New York: 1962) , pp. 
198-200. 

7. Museum of Modern Art files. 

8. Ibid. 

9. Max Beckmann, Tagebiicher, 1940-50, Zusammengestellt von Mathilde Q. Beckmann, 
Herausgegeben von Erhard Gopel (Miinchen: 1955) , p. 155. 

10. Ibid., p. 159. 

11. Museum of Modern Art files. 

12. Ibid. 

13. Selz, p. 82. 

14. Museum of Modern Art files. 


Max Beckman—Day and Dream / 303 


Twentieth-Century Mexican Graphic Art 


by Charles Herrington 


One of the most vital artistic movements of the twentieth century springs from 
Mexico. A wave of creative productivity beginning about 1910 at the time of 
the Revolution has given leading Mexican artists international fame and an 
influence felt throughout the artistic world. The revived use of true fresco in 
the decoration of public buildings crowned the achievements of the major artists, 
and the resulting murals are considered by many to be the finest since the Italian 
Renaissance. The creative energy has not been restricted to painting, however; 
architecture, sculpture, and the graphic arts, particularly the woodcut and the 
lithograph, have all shared the same dramatic development. 

Among recent acquisitions for the Joseph and Elizabeth Robins Pennell 
Collection of fine prints are nine examples of twentieth-century Mexican lithog¬ 
raphy. Six important artists are represented in this noteworthy addition to the 
collection: Diego Rivera, Francisco Dosamantes, Leopoldo Mendez, Jesus Esco¬ 
bedo, Alfredo Zalce, and Luis Arenal. The works of these artists, when combined 
with other prints already existing in the collections, not only relate the growth 
and development of contemporary Mexican graphic art but, because all Mexi¬ 
can art has been essentially social art, the prints also reveal the Mexican national 
consciousness in the most vivid terms. There is little concern shown for purely 
aesthetic values. Almost without exception, Mexican prints reveal man the 
revolutionary, the worker, the soldier, the subject of cruelty or brutality—always 
man in action. 

As is true of all stylistic developments, modern Mexican art did not appear 
full-blown during the Revolution. The mature expression that we see today has 


304 



Suerte de Banderillas by Posada 



Twentieth Century Mexican Graphic Art / 305 



























Zapata by Rivera 


its foundations in pre-Colombian times. During the colonial period the common 
art of Spain was imported into the New World, and an attempt was made to 
bury native expression with the idols of the pagan past. This measure succeeded 
for the most part until the nineteenth century and the advent of national con¬ 
sciousness, but as is so often the case, with freedom of thought, criticism, and 
creativity came a renaissance of native expression and the fusion of the two 
styles. 

Certainly the most influential artist of the awakening period, particularly 
of those using the graphic media, was Jose Guadalupe Posada. Working for the 
publishing house of Vanegas Arroyo, he produced close to fifteen thousand prints 
mainly woodcuts and relief etchings, from about 1887 until his death in 1913. 
These prints are popular art par excellence, exploring all facets of Mexican life 
and customs in dynamic and moving compositions that are almost entirely free 
of foreign influence. The woodcut Suerte de Banderillas exemplifies Posada’s 
innate sense of balance in composition and tone. No unessential elements clutter 
the central theme and a perfect equilibrium is established between light and 
shade. These principles were not necessarily learned from a foreign source as they 
are basic to all sophisticated pre-Conquest art. 

Although the new tendencies were firmly established by Posada and other 
artists of the nineteenth century, their full impact was not felt until the Revolu¬ 
tion, when Mexico emerged as a vigorous nation, experimenting with political, 
economic, and social reforms. Out of the turbulent strife of this period emerged 
the three great painters who founded a new era in monumental art—Diego 
Rivera, Jose Clemente Orozco, and David Alfaro Siqueiros. 

Although most famous for their spectacular murals, these men have all 
contributed to graphic art. They did not, however, experiment with techniques 
in the manner of professional printmakers but more often used the popular 
medium to extend and reproduce their paintings. Rivera’s lithograph Zapata 
is based upon a fresco at the Palace of Cortes in Cuernavaca. Similarly, the 
model for Orozco’s lithograph Franciscan may be found on a vault in the Na¬ 
tional Preparatory School in Mexico City. 

Diego Rivera, born in 1886 in Guanajuato, was a student of the French 
school. In Paris he responded particularly to the works of Ingres and Cezanne 
and was associated with Picasso during the second phase of cubism, but his 
mature and flexible style reflects the overpowering influence of his native Mexi¬ 
can heritage. 


306 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 





Above: Moises Saenz by Siqueiros 


Right: The mood of the revolutionary period 
is continued in the cartoon-like lithographs of 
the second generation artists. 



Twentieth Century Mexican Graphic Art / 307 





Nazi Pogrom by A renal. 



On the other hand, until 1932, Orozco had never been to Europe. His 
inspiration and school was the Revolution itself, the armies of which he fol¬ 
lowed into the field. His compassionate treatments of misery and suffering are 
statements of bitter protest. 

Where Orozco’s bitterness is seen in hauntingly beautiful compositions, the 
protestations of David Alfaro Siqueiros burst forth in brutal, swelling forms. 
In his portrait lithograph of Moises Saenz, the face looms on the paper. Power, 
not beauty, is the effect desired and achieved. 


308 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 









Marching Nazis and Fascists by Mendez. There were three common elements that bound the works of these artists 

together, creating a mature Mexican school and establishing the trends of later 
decades. Each used his art to present social protest, whether in simple state¬ 
ments, skeptical examinations, or passionate outcries. Each was concerned mainly 
with what was to be said rather than with how to say it. In other words, con¬ 
tent, not form, was the first consideration. In an overall view of the period, the 
third element is seen as an overpowering preoccupation with death, on the spirit 
of death, as if all of life were simply a preparation for it. Although particularly 


Twentieth Century Mexican Graphic Art \ 309 












Oaxacan Mother, left, and Dead Soldier, above, by Dosamantes 


noticeable in the first decade after the Revolution, this preoccupation is a con¬ 
tinuous element in Mexican art from pre-Colombian times. 

The incarnation of this spirit of death can be seen no better than in an 
early lithograph by Francisco Dosamantes, given the title Dead Soldier. Gro¬ 
tesquely foreshortened and twisted, stiff in agonized death, the figure is a uni¬ 
versal statement of the horror of war. 

As the revolutionary fervor began to subside in the 1930s, a new generation 
of artists cried out against social injustice, but this time with eyes turned toward 


310 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 




Europe and the growth of the Nazi and Fascist terrors. Thus, Mendez, Esco¬ 
bedo, Zalce, Arenal, and others joined the crusade of their predecessors. The 
prints of this period demonstrate the continuity of the Mexican school. The 
artists, having experimented little in techniques, still show a dominant interest 
in content. 

In the 1950s, however, prints show a change in attitudes and interests. With 
the Revolution thirty years removed, there seems to be less concern with social 
protest, although the subjects continue for the most part to examine native 
Mexican life. The deathly gloom no longer prevails. The same Dosamantes who 
had conceived the Dead Soldier about 1930 later presents the Oaxacan Mother. 
A proud native figure, she expresses not death, but eternity. 

A very recent print by one of Mexico’s leading present-day artists, Rufino 
Tamayo, indicates that a break with past traditions has occurred. Here the first 
consideration is form, not content. The vigorous, seemingly dancing figure 
makes no obvious appeal or statement. 

The continuing interest of the Library of Congress in Latin American cul¬ 
ture is evidenced not only by the compilation of the Archives of Hispanic 
Culture and the activities of the Latin American, Portuguese, and Spanish Di¬ 
vision but also by a noteworthy and growing collection of modern Mexican 
prints in the Prints and Photographs Division. A checklist of artists who are 
represented follows. (Birth and death dates are given where established.) 


Aguilar, Carlos Maria R. de 
Aguirre, Ignacio, 1900— 

Alfaro Siqueiros, David, 1898— 
Alvarado Lang, Carlos, 1905- 
Amero, Emilio, 1900- 
Arenal, Luis, 1908- 
Avellano, Jose 
Avila, Abelardo, 1907- 
Banos, Luis 

Beloff Camonen, Angelina 
Beltran, Alberto, 1923- 
Bracho, Angel, 1911— 

Calderon de la Barca, Celia, 1921— 
Cantu, Federico, 1908— 


Castro, Vita 

Castro Pacheco, Fernando, 1918— 
Chariot, Jean, 1898— 

Chavez Morado, Jose, 1909- 
Cortes Juarez, Erasto, 1900- 
Dosamantes, Francisco, 1911— 
Echauri, Manuel, 1914— 

Escobedo, Jesus, 1918- 
Franco, Antonio 

Garda Maldonado, Alberto, 1920- 
Garcin, Antonio 
Gomez, Andrea, 1924— 

Gutierrez, Francisco, 1906- 
Guzman, Bulmaro, 1897- 


Twentieth Century Mexican Graphic Art / 311 


Heller, Julio 
Lugo, Amador, 1921— 

Mendez, Leopoldo, 1903- 
Monje, Luis L. 

Mora, Francisco, 1922— 

Moreno Capdevila, Francisco, 1926— 
Nunez, Daniel 
Ocampo, Isidoro, 1910— 

Olvera, Jorge, 1915- 
Alvera, Jorge, 1915— 

Orozco, Jose Clemente, 1883-1949 

Paredes, Mariano, 1912- 

Paz Perez, Gonzalo de la, 1910— 


Pena, Feliciano, 1915- 
Rabel [Rabinovich], Fanny, 1922— 
Ramirez, Everardo, 1906- 
Rivera, Diego, 1886-1957 
Romero, Fernando 
Romero, Jos£ 

Tamayo, Rufino, 1900- 
Trejo, Antonio, 1922— 

Valadez, Emiliano 
Vazquez, J. Francisco, 1904- 
Yampolsky, Mariana, 1925— 

Zalce, Alfredo, 1908- 
Zamarripa, Angel, 1912- 



312 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 





A Rare Film Poster 


by Elena G. Millie 


The Prints and Photographs Division has acquired for its collections an inter¬ 
esting French poster by the artist August Leymarie entitled Chariot—“L’as des 
comiqaes ’’ published in Paris by L’Agence Generale Cinematographique. 

Charlie Chaplin, wearing his famous baggy pants, floppy shoes, cane, 
moustache, and derby, is shown stepping from America to France with suitcase 
in hand. Here the mystery begins, because the occasion for which the poster was 
designed, the date of its execution, and the identity of the artist, beyond his 
name, seem unrecorded in published histories of the poster and the motion 
picture. 

It is known, however, that Chaplin, or “Chariot” as the French affection¬ 
ately called him, traveled abroad in September 1921. He had just divorced his 
first wife, Mildred Harris, and decided a trip to Europe would be an excellent 
escape from reporters and from publicity. His native England, France, and 
Germany were on his intended itinerary. 

His first stop was London. Chaplin relates in his book My Trip Abroad 
that on arriving at Southampton, he was overwhelmed by the huge and en¬ 
thusiastic crowd on hand to greet him. It seemed to follow him everywhere, 
leaving him without a moment’s peace. At the end of a week he made a quick 
departure to Paris, hoping to find that peace. On reaching the French shore, 
however, he saw that he was “out of the frying pan” into the fire. Nevertheless, 
Chaplin loved Paris. The crowds kept their distance during most of his visit, 
and Paris turned out to be one of his favorite cities on the tour. 1 


313 



\ 

s/ 

A. 



A drawing of his hat, cane, and boots, Charlie’s 
favorite autograph, appears in Charlie Chaplin, King 
of Tragedy, where it is identified as an autographed 
crest given to the writer. © 1940, The Caxton Printers, 
Ltd., Caldwell, Idaho. Reproduced by permission. 


Left: This colored lithograph poster by August 
Leymarie shows Charlie Chaplin dressed in green 
trousers and a maroon coat and topped by his brown 
derby. It was published by L’Agence Generate 
Cinematographique in Paris and measures approxi¬ 
mately 61 by 45 inches. 


314 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 








Charlie Chaplin had been a longtime favorite of the French. In 1914 his 
first movies, Fatty and Caught in a Cabaret, were shown in Paris. When the 
war broke out, his films were shown at the front and did much to lift the morale 
of the soldiers. Therefore, to the French, Chariot was indeed “L’as des 
comiques.” 

One morning during his stay in Paris, Chaplin was cornered by J. P. 
Morgan’s daughter, Anne, with a request to show his latest film, The Kid, at a 
gala to raise funds for the rebuilding of devastated France. 2 She said that if he 
would appear in person, she was sure he would be decorated. Feeling mis¬ 
chievous, Chaplin promised her, and the date was set. This was the only time 
on his trip that he consented to make a formal appearance in connection with 
one his films, 3 and it is conceivable that the poster was produced for this oc¬ 
casion. 

The poster was published by a large film distributing company in Paris, 
L’Agence Generate Cinematographique, which might seem to indicate that it 
was designed for a showing of a Chaplin film. However, it names no film in 
particular, and since it pictures Charles carrying his suitcase, a personal appear¬ 
ance by the star in France is suggested. It is, therefore, likely that the poster was 
used to announce his appearance in Paris at the Trocadero for the showing of 
The Kid, where Chaplin was presented with a medal making him an Officier de 
1’Instruction Publique. 4 

This unusual French poster, formerly in the possession of a dealer in Lon¬ 
don, was purchased for the Library of Congress with funds from the bequest 
of Mrs. Gardiner Greene Hubbard. 


NOTES 


1. Charles Chaplin, My Trip Abroad (New York: 1922), pp. 104-5. 

2. Charles Chaplin, My Autobiography (New York: 1964), p. 277. 

3. Pierre Leprohon, Charles Chapliti (Paris: 1957) , p. 280. 

4. Gerith von Ulm, Charlie Chaplin, King of Tragedy (Caldwell, Idaho: 1940), p. 161. 


A Rare Film Poster / 315 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress 


by C. Ford Peatross 


The now various roofs of the Library of Congress shelter a unique aggregation 
of documents relating to the history of architecture and the associated disciplines 
of engineering, landscape and interior design, and city planning. America's built 
tradition, in a sense its physical plant—consisting of houses, office and govern¬ 
ment buildings, schools and colleges, places of worship, theaters, sports arenas, 
hotels, garages, factories, bridges, dams, and even gardens, parks, and public 
squares—represents the continuing investment of its citizens, both individually 
and communally, in their nation's development. There can be no more tangible 
record of the sources, aspirations, and achievements of American civilization 
than this built tradition, which embodies the commitment of both labor and 
capital to a building purpose, whether symbolic or functional, whether a war 
memorial or a steel foundry. 

For those who wish to study our nation’s development through its archi¬ 
tectural expression, the Library of Congress offers magnificent resources not 
only in its book and periodical collections but also in complementary and often 
unique documents and reference aids in such special collections as those to 
be found in the Geography and Map Division, the Local History and Genealogy 
Room, the Microform Reading Room, the Manuscript Division, the Rare Book 
and Special Collections Division, and especially in the Prints and Photographs 
Division. Researchers in no other country enjoy the benefits of having all of 
these necessary and related resources for the study of architecture so assembled, 
thus facilitating their use and comparison. 


316 



Workmen applying the finishing decorative touches on the galleries of the theater; from B. Henry 
Latrobe’s album of drawings for “Designs of a Building to be Erected at Richmond in Virginia, to 
Contain a Theatre, Assembly-rooms, and an Hotel,” 1797-98. The project was never carried out. In the 
Library’s extensive collection of original architectural drawings, the over two hundred Latrobe drawings 
represent the finest examples of that art, for Latrobe was a superb draftsman as well as one of the 
finest architects of his age. Pen and ink with colored washes. LC-USZ62-1221; LC- 
USZC1-92 (color) 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 317 






























































My purpose here is to reveal something of the history, nature, scope, and 
ways of using the various architectural collections in the Library’s Prints and 
Photographs Division, both those collections which are exclusively architectural 
and those which, although not primarily architectural, include important re¬ 
lated documents. As its name does not reveal, the Prints and Photographs 
Division has been for nearly fifty years our national buildings archive, serving 
as the principal repository for the photographic prints and negatives, measured 
and other drawings, and historical, architectural, and technological information 
documenting structures and sites in the United States and its territories and 
possessions. During this half century it was only natural that such an established 
archive should attract many supplementary architectural documents; these have 
come to the Library through purchase, gift, and loan from architectural photog¬ 
raphers, scholars, students, universities, historical societies, and ordinary citizens. 
In addition, the division’s vast collections of historical photographs and prints 
have been arranged and indexed both by subject (often architectural) and by 
geographic location, thus making them more easily accessible to architectural 
researchers. 

Mere chance did not bring this remarkable body of architectural documen¬ 
tation to the Library of Congress. The Library was a pioneer both in realizing 
the importance of a vanishing architectural heritage and in taking steps to see 
that that heritage was properly recorded and made available for study. During 
the 1930s the Library was instrumental in the creation and organization of three 
important collections: the Pictorial Archives of Early American Architecture 
(PAEAA), the Carnegie Survey of the Architecture of the South (CSAS), and 
the Historic American Buildings Survey (HABS) . These major groups formed 
the core of the present collections. Before that time, architecture fell within the 
purview of the old Division of Prints, which was “devoted to the subject of the 
fine arts (including architecture),” 1 and related documents were acquired spo¬ 
radically through purchase, gift, transfer, and copyright deposit. The Library’s 
collecting energies in the subject of architecture did not receive concentrated 
direction until 1929, when Leicester B. Holland of Philadelphia, an architect 
and historian of architecture and landscape design, was named to head the newly 
formed Fine Arts Division. 

Dr. Holland’s initiative, coupled with sizable gifts of architectural photo¬ 
graphs in 1929 and 1930, prompted the Library to establish “a national reposi¬ 
tory for photographic negatives of early American architecture, to preserve and 
make available to students of history and others, pictorial records of our rapidly 

318 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 


disappearing ancestral homes.” 2 This project was begun with a $5,000 grant 
from the Carnegie Corporation. The amount had grown to $26,000 by 1939, 3 
when over ten thousand negatives had been acquired by purchase, loan, and gift 
from all across the country. The Library had actively sought out these negatives 
through national solicitation in newspapers and magazines and circular letters 
sent to the chapters of the American Institute of Architects and to various his¬ 
torical and photographic societies. 4 Donations still come in as a result of those 
early efforts. As late as last November the division received a snapshot of an old 
home at Staten Island, New York, attached to a yellowed clipping from a 1930s 
New York Times with the heading ‘‘Library of Congress Seeks Photographs of 
Historic Buildings.” 

The Pictorial Archives of Early American Architecture, as this collection 
came to be called, had been given early encouragement by one of the nation’s 
finest architectural photographers, Frances Benjamin Johnston. In 1929 she de¬ 
posited in the Library ‘‘between 5,000 and 6,000 photographic negatives, largely 
of gardens and architectural subjects, . . . ultimately to become the property of 
the Library,” for, in her words, ‘‘the purpose of creating a nucleus for a national 
foundation for the study of early American architecture and of garden design.” 5 
These were later supplemented by further gifts from Miss Johnston and by com¬ 
missions to her from the Carnegie Corporation between 1930 and 1943, of 
approximately eight thousand photographs of buildings in Maryland, Virginia, 
North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, and 
Louisiana. Called the Carnegie Survey of the Architecture of the South, the 
magnificent images in this collection alone have provided the inspiration for 
several books, including Henry Irving Brock’s Colonial Churches in Virginia, 
Samuel Gaillard Stoney’s Plantations of the Carolina Low Country, Thomas T. 
Waterman’s The Early Architecture of North Carolina, Mansions of Virginia, 
and Divellings of Colonial America, and Frederick D. Nichols’s The Early Archi¬ 
tecture of Georgia . 6 

Miss Johnston’s expert photographs not only displayed her own skill and 
artistry but also revealed a prescient interest in vernacular architecture. She was 
among the first to realize the beauty and significance of these humbler and 
rapidly disappearing structures. She also set an important precedent by giving 
the body of her architectural photography to the Library, a practice since fol¬ 
lowed by other architectural photographers, including Robert Tebbs and Theo¬ 
dore Horydczak. 

To make the materials which it was collecting available to and usable by 

Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 319 


researchers, the Library developed a unique system called the Shelf-List Index. 
That system assigns an identifying number to a building or site and to all the 
records which document it: photographic negatives and prints, historical infor¬ 
mation, etc. The organizational basis of the system is geographic: state, country, 
and city or vicinity. Buildings or sites are thus assigned a coded prefix—in¬ 
dicating the state, county, and city—plus their own number; the records accord¬ 
ingly are arranged by geographic code and then numerically. The index cards 
which provide access to those records, however, are filed alphabetically after the 
geographic code, to simplify the researcher’s task, especially when the building 
or site is located in a large city. 

Thus, the materials we have for the Singer Tower in New York City, for 
example, are assigned the following Shelf-List number: NY,31— NEYO,71— . 
This includes an abbreviation for the state (New York) ; the number of the 
county, according to its alphabetical sequence (New York County) ; an abbrevia¬ 
tion for the city or vicinity (New York City) ; and the number assigned to the 
individual building or site (Singer Tower) when material relating to it was first 
received at the Library and cataloged. 

Because all of the photographic prints and negatives for Shelf-Listed build¬ 
ings and sites are also numbered sequentially, one need only note the entire 
code to order a copy from the Photoduplication Service or to call for a refer¬ 
ence print of a specific photograph. The order number for the HABS photo¬ 
graph showing the demolition of the Singer Tower w’ould be NY,31—NEYO,71—4, 
since it is the fourth of the twenty HABS photographs of that building. Meas¬ 
ured drawings and data pages are also numbered separately and may be ordered 
in the same way. 

Unfortunately, the somewhat tedious explanation of this system can only 
partially reveal the many benefits it affords to researchers. Those are best dis¬ 
covered by using the records. One principal advantage of the geographic arrange¬ 
ment is that a researcher who is interested in all of the buildings in a particular 
state, county, city, or rural neighborhood rather than in a particular structure 
will find their records already grouped together. The fact that those units are 
also political is important because of the parallel organization of related official 
documents, including deeds, building permits, tax records, and wills. Finally, 
those same geographical units are the key to a vast corresponding body of pub¬ 
lished materials, including city directories and local histories. It was therefore a 
logical development that the Shelf-List Index, originally designed by the Library 
for its Pictorial Archives of Early American Architecture, was extended to in- 


320 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 


elude the records of the Historic American Buildings Survey. In fact, the system 
was an important reason why the Library was planned as the repository for the 
HABS collection. 7 

Devised largely through the efforts of Charles E. Peterson of the National 
Park Service, HABS began in 1933 “as a work relief project under the Civil 
Works Administration, to aid unemployed architects and draftsmen and at the 
same time to produce a detailed record of such early American architecture as 
was in immediate danger of destruction.” 8 From the beginning, the Library of 
Congress “was obviously indicated as the institution best fitted to have perma¬ 
nent care and administration of the completed records” 9 which HABS produced 
and which became “an integral part of the Pictorial Archives of Early American 
Architecture.” 10 HABS achieved more permanent status in 1935 under a tripar¬ 
tite agreement signed by the National Park Service, the American Institute of 
Architects (AIA), and the Library of Congress, and it continued after that date 
with funds from the Works Progress Administration. 11 

The Library essentially wore two hats in this arrangement, for Dr. Holland 
functioned not only as the Library’s representative, approving and signing each 
deposited measured drawing and supervising the organization and service of the 
collection to the public, but he also represented the AIA, serving as chairman of 
its national Committee on the Preservation of Historic Buildings. Both HABS 
and PAEAA reached a peak of activity in 1934-35, during which over 750 archi¬ 
tects employed by HABS were busy recording structures and sites all across the 
country, while at the Library Dr. Holland, Natalie Plunkett, and Virginia Daiker 
were accessioning and cataloging the records pouring into the two collections as 
well as preparing an architectural subject index with over five hundred headings. 
Simultaneously, six architects assigned to the Library’s Fine Arts Division from 
the Park Service were busy indexing (geographically, of course) the illustrations 
in 128 architectural books in the division’s reference collection. 12 That project 
became known as the Index of Illustrations of Early American Architecture. 

The operations of HABS itself were stilled by the manpower necessities of 
World War II, and its recording activities were not resumed until 1957. At 
present it has documented almost seventeen thousand structures in 34,750 meas¬ 
ured drawings, 44,800 photographs, and 15,450 pages of historical and architec¬ 
tural information. Add to this the work accomplished by the Historic American 
Engineering Record (HAER), which in 1969 began to similarly document 
monuments of American engineering skill, and the number of structures repre¬ 
sented in these two deposit collections at the Library approaches twenty thou- 

Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 321 


sand. Both collections are created by professional staffs within the Heritage Con¬ 
servation and Recreation Service of the U.S. Department of the Interior, but the 
Library of Congress is responsible for their care, preservation, and public service. 

It should be noted that as the Library’s largest and most important architec¬ 
tural collection, HABS has enjoyed an often unfair dominance over the many 
smaller and less publicized architectural collections in the Prints and Photo¬ 
graphs Division. A dismaying number of researchers think it represents the 
Library’s only architectural material. HABS is, of course, along with PAEAA 
and HAER, the key from which one works—through the Shelf-List Index system 
and supplemental card indexes—to get at the valuable documents in those ad¬ 
junct collections. However, the approximately twenty thousand buildings sur¬ 
veyed by HABS and HAER collectively represent less than half of the structures 
and sites indexed in all of the card files and only a fraction of those documented 
in other collections in the division but not individually indexed. PAEAA and 
HABS are the backbone from which has developed a complex synaptic network 
allowing the retrieval of related architectural illustrations in hundreds of other 
collections. 

For instance, there are many groups of materials in the division’s collections 
which are kept together for various reasons—such as common donor or medium- 
including eleven thousand groups cataloged according to the “lot” system. These 
are indexed by subject and the largest are subdivided geographically. Thus the 
reference copies for the Historical Print Collection, the mounted photographs 
(including gifts, purchases, and copyright deposits), the panoramas and stereop- 
ticon views, and the large collections from a single source, like the Detroit Pub¬ 
lishing Company (over thirty thousand photographs) and the Farm Security 
Administration (over seventy-five thousand photographs), are arranged geo¬ 
graphically. Even the subject files, whether they comprise card indexes to original 
materials or to copy negatives or consist of mounted original photographs, are 
secondarily arranged according to geographical location, e.g., Theaters: U.S.— 
California—San Francisco. The obverse applies to geographic files, which are 
secondarily arranged by subject, e.g., U.S.—California—San Francisco: Theaters. 

The manner in which these subject/geographic synapses function should be¬ 
come evident in the examples which follow demonstrating the location of rel¬ 
evant materials on a variety of subjects: a building type (theaters), an engineer¬ 
ing form (bridges), a single structure (Singer Tower), architectural styles 
(Gothic, French), design details (onion-shaped cupolas), an individual architect 
or firm (Frank Lloyd Wright), and vernacular structures (domestic, commer- 

322 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 


cial). For the sake of simplicity, the examples are limited to American architec¬ 
ture, although the collections contain outstanding documentation of architecture 
throughout the world, of obvious importance in investigating the origins of and 
foreign influences on American design. 13 

This survey of illustrations of American theaters encapsulizes the history of 
that form according to changing needs and technological and stylistic develop¬ 
ments. Almost all were readily located by searching for theaters in several dif¬ 
ferent subject and geographical files, as discussed above. They include original 
and measured drawings, historical prints, and various types of photographs, span¬ 
ning the period between 1798 and 1960. 

Through most of the history of the American theater, potential commercial 
success has played a significant role in the design of its buildings. Both spatial 
and decorative extravagance have been key factors in attracting theatergoers; 
therefore both the interiors and, later, the exteriors of American theaters have 
not infrequently proved more dramatic than the performances they hosted. One 
of the most ambitious and elegant early American theater schemes was B. Henry 
Latrobe’s projected building combining a theater, assembly rooms, and a hotel, 
proposed for Richmond, Virginia, in 1797-98. Perhaps too ambitious, it was 
never built, but the project is represented by one of the beautiful watercolor 
drawings in Latrobe’s album, part of the Library’s extensive collection of orig¬ 
inal American architectural drawings. That rendering shows Latrobe himself, 
standing on the rail of the gallery, directing the workmen who are applying the 
finishing decorative touches to the interior of his theater. 

Another elegant but ultimately more successful project was the Chestnut 
Street Theatre in Philadelphia, which was designed by a student of Latrobe’s, 
William Strickland, in 1822-24. Destroyed in 1856, its facade, exhibiting affinities 
to the English Regency style, is fortunately preserved in one of the division’s 
historic photographs. Such a facade was soon considered unfashionable by ad¬ 
vocates of the new rage, the Greek Revival. Such an advocate was Alexander 
Jackson Davis, who depicted the use of a Greek Revival facade in his 1828 en¬ 
graving of New York City’s Bowery Theatre, from the Historical Print Collec¬ 
tion. The Greek Revival itself soon gave way to the Italianate and Second 
Empire forms seen in the 1871 lithograph Crescite et Multiplicamini. This lith¬ 
ograph also shows an early example of a development which would have lasting 
effects on both the architecture and the structure of the performing arts in 
America, that being the establishment of a circuit of theaters by impresario 
John T. Ford. 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 323 



The Chestnut Street Theatre in Philadelphia, designed in 1822 by 
William Strickland and demolished in 1856. This photograph by McClees 
is filed among the Miscellaneous Oversize Historic Photographs (A size). 
No. 46. The Chestnut Street Theatre and thousands of other important 
American buildings are represented in the Library’s nineteenth- and early 
twentieth-century photographs, many of which were copyright deposits. 
LC-U SZ62-11636 


324 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century 



View of the Bowery Theatre, New York, “drawn and engraved expressly 
for the New-York Mirror” by Alexander Jackson Davis, 1828; from the 
Historical Print Collection. That the Greek Revival was primarily a 
“facade style” is well, if not intentionally, argued in this view of the 
theater, designed by J. Sera to replace the 1825 design of Ithiel Town. 
The engulfing clouds do less to relieve the heavy Doric order than to 
recall, unfortunately, the fire that destroyed its short-lived predecessor. 
LC-USZ62-32484 


Facing page: Lithograph by A. Hoen and Company of Baltimore, 1873, 
from the Historical Print Collection. No less than eight strategically 
placed muses present the various architectural glories of John T. Ford’s 
small theatrical empire. The showpiece in the center pajiel is Ford’s 
Grand Opera House in Baltimore, surrounded by the just completed 
Opera House in Washington, the Holliday Street Theatre in Baltimore, 
Ford’s own residence in Baltimore, and the now famous Ford’s Theatre 
in Washington, shown here sewing as the United States Medical Museum, 
having closed as a theater soon after the assassination of President 
Lincoln during a performance of Our American Cousin. 

LC-U SZ62-15672 


to the Sixties 






























FORDS GRAND OPERA HOUSE 

BALTIMORE. 


FORD'S THEATREIOTSI WASHINGTON 

NOW U 8 MEDICAL MUSEUM 
ORIMMAUY IMCTf 0 '8« 3 


JOHN! FORD'S RESIDENCE, 

BALTIMORE 1869 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 325 















































Another early theatrical promoter, a Mr. Niblo of New York City, in 1853 
opened a building combining theater and assembly rooms, not unlike that en¬ 
visaged by Latrobe some fifty years before. The many pleasures of Niblo’s Garden 
were detailed in a popular illustrated magazine, Gleason’s Pictorial Drawing- 
Room Companion , of May 14, 1853. Many such clippings from magazines like 
Harper’s, Leslie’s, and the Illustrated London News form a useful part of our 
Historical Print Collection. 
















Jjjjv,.,. 


Three views of the interior of Niblo’s Garden, New York, engraved by J. W. Orr for 
Gleason’s Pictorial Drawing-Room Companion, May 14, 1853. “Unsurpassed even in 
Europe” according to the accompanying article, Niblo’s also included “a splendid concert 
hall, and ball-room, with richly furnished reception parlors, drawing-rooms, dressing- 
rooms, and a supper saloon sufficiently capacious to accommodate upwards of a thousand 
guests. Independent of these, . . . the entrance halls and lobbies are sufficiently spacious 
to afford accommodation for an entire audience at one time, and even these are decorated 
in a style of splendor equal to the interior of our most sumptuous dwellings.” Located 
among the reference copies of the Historical Print Collection under Theaters (Exteriors 
and Interiors). LC-USZ62-2647 


326 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 



















































Cross section and details showing changes 
made in the structure and ventilation 
system of the Great Hall of the Cooper 
Union for the Advancement of Science 
and Art in New York City, ca. 1888. 1971 
drawing by Dale Flick, HAER. (HAER 
NY-20) NY,31-NEY0,81-sheet 20 



With the increase in the complexity and size of productions and audiences, 
theater auditoriums required technological advances in such areas as acoustics 
and ventilation. Recognized achievements in both of those sciences are docu¬ 
mented in measured drawings in the HAER and HABS collections. One was the 
improvement of the ventilation system of the Great Hall of the Cooper Union 
in New York City about 1888, drawn by HAER; another was the acoustical per¬ 
fection of Adler and Sullivan’s huge Auditorium in Chicago in 1887-89, the 
design of which is shown in a longitudinal section by HABS. 

Operatic productions, increasingly popular after the middle of the nine- 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 327 




































































teenth century, dictated elaborate theaters like the Auditorium. Of the number¬ 
less opera houses which sprang up all over the country, the most famous has 
been New York City’s Metropolitan, which was originally built in 1883 according 
to the designs of J. Cleveland Cady. Although HABS recorded the Met before its 
demolition in 1966, both the building’s exterior and its neighborhood had by 
that time undergone considerable alteration. The excellent turn-of-the-century 
photographs in the Detroit Publishing Company collection provide a much 
better picture of the original appearance and setting of the building. 


Adler and Sullivan’s Auditorium Build¬ 
ing, Chicago, built 1887-89. Seating 
4,237 people, the Auditorium supplanted 
New York’s Metropolitan as the largest 
theater in America. It incorporated num¬ 
erous technological innovations and its 
acoustical design has often been hailed as 
the finest of any theater in the world, 
especially for operatic productions. 1963 
drawing by Robert C. Giebner, HABS. 
(HABS ILL-1007) ILL,16-CHIGJ9- 
sheet 4 



1 V r* : * T! ’TV M \ r 


SECTION 


j.cali ’u' 

BASED PRiMAQILT ON A DRAWING PUBLISHED IN INLAND ARCHITECT, JULY , '866, AND A 
DRAWNC. 6V J H GOOftSKtY Of SKIDMORE , OWINCS i MERRILL , ARCHITECTS, IN 
196). RcSTOQED ELEMENTS J N THIS SECTION INCLUDE TVE CHOUNO CiOOU SEATiNG 
IN THE THEATRE AND THE MALL OBSERVATION TOWER. 


tt t? -*r -rr yr »t " 

II J! a i i.il li '■ 


328 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 



























































































































The Metropolitan Opera House, New York City, from the southeast. The view above shows its appearance 
around 1905; the HABS photograph on the right was taken by Jack E. Boucher in May 1966, shortly 
before the Met’s demolition. Built to the design of J. Cleveland Cady in 1883, the Met was the greatest 
theater in America in its day, but it had undergone many changes by the time of the later Photograph. 
Besides the modern refacing of the ground story and the alterations in the roofline, the neighborhood 
had changed so that it reflected little of the original relation of the building to its site. The earlier photo¬ 
graph is one of more than thirty thousand views of American cities, towns, buildings, and scenery, ca. 
1898-1914, from the Detroit Publishing Company collection. The company’s 8" x 10" glass plate negatives 
for sites east of the Mississippi are also in the Libray’s collections. Above: LC-D4-18310; right: (HABS 
NY-5486) NY J1 -NEY0,79-1 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 329 


'iii; -i ■ r.i 















Many other late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century American theaters 
are illustrated in the Single Subject File under that subject category. The Brad¬ 
ford Theatre, otherwise unidentified, exhibited a typical auditorium form for 
that period, not unlike the one shown in an advertisement for “Lyman Howe’s 
New Marvels in Moving Pictures” from the collection of American theatrical 
posters. With the advent of motion pictures, theaters like the Bradford often 
saw their live performances replaced by films. 

Motion pictures, perhaps more than any other medium, took advantage of 
the audience-attracting features inherent in theater architecture. In Sidney Lust’s 
Leader Theater in Washington, D.C., about 1920, the building itself has become 


Interior view of the Bradford Theater, 
in a 1907 copyright deposit photograph 
by Frank Robbins from the Single Photo 
File under Theaters—Miscellaneous (no 
location given). The Single Photo File 
contains thoussands of gift and duplicate 
copyright deposit photographs filed 
according to the subjects they represent, 
many of which are architectural. Within 
those subject categories they are 
arranged alphabetically by geographical 
location, when it is known. LC-USZ62- 
62049 



330 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 

















In this poster for “Lyman H. Howe’s New 
Marvels in Moving Pictures," Howe graphi¬ 
cally assaults his audience with ships of the 
Spanish-American War. Such “legitimate" 
subjects were part of the attempt of early 
motion picture entrepreneurs to attract a 
“high-class" clientele, and here the attentive, 
prosperous, and surprisingly calm audience 
occupies seats in a “legitimate” theater very 
similar to the Bradford. Found in the Histori¬ 
cal Print Collection reference file under the 
category Theaters—Motion Picture. The 
original lithograph by Courier (1898) is in the 
division’s Poster Collection under Entertain¬ 
ment. LC-USZ62-62048 



Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 331 
















Sidney Lust’s Leader Theater, Washington, 
D.C., about 1920, below, and the illuminated 
marquee of Loew’s Palace Theater, also in 
Washington, about 1921, below right. Both 
photographs by the National Photo Company 
(a gift collection), from the Single Photo File 
under Theaters: United States—D.C. Right: 
LC-F82-5360; below: LC-US262- 
62050 


a form of theater, with its caryatid-flanked facade transformed into a proscenium 
framing a changeable set, here extolling the rustic virtues of the feature attrac¬ 
tion. The role of such advertising in the design of theater facades included the 
“architecture in light” of illuminated marquees like that of Washington’s Loew’s 
Palace. By the early 1930s the marquee and the facade had become almost com¬ 
pletely integrated, as in the “moderne” design of the Trans-Lux Theatre at 58th 
Street and Madison Avenue in New York City. Meanwhile, the interiors of such 
theaters began to fulfill the promise of the “motion picture palace,” as is evident 
in an interior view of the grandest from the 1920s, the Roxy in New York City, 
where vast spaces combined with profuse Plateresque decoration to overwhelm 
the moviegoer. 



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332 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 





























The Trans-Lux Theatre, 58th Street and Madison Avenue, New York City, 
about 1931. Rather than appearing to be merely tacked onto an existing 
building, the marquee here has become an integral part of the design, func¬ 
tioning as a combination frieze and string course in one of the sophisticated 
designs for which the Trans-Lux chain was notable. From the Single Photo 
File under Theaters: United States—New York City. LC-USZ62-62051 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 333 





















































































Interior view of the Roxy, New 
York City, around 1927, now 
demolished. Planned as a “total 
experience” for theatergoers by its 
promoter, S. L. Rothafel, the Roxy 
purportedly cost over $15 million 
and seated over six thousand. Its 
oval lobby alone could hold three 
thousand people. Copyright deposit 
photograph from the Geographic 
File, New York—New York City: 
Theaters—the Roxy. LC—USZ62— 
62052 


334 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 





































J 



Alodel of the Lincoln Center for the Perform¬ 
ing Arts, New York City, with its planners: 
standing in center, Wallace K. Harrison, chief 
architect; from left, Edward Mathews, Philip 
Johnson, Jo Mielziner, John D. Rockefeller III 
(president of the Center), Eero Saarinen, 
Gordon Bunshaft, Max Abramovitz, and 
Pietro Belluschi. This photograph by Arnold 
Newman is from an article entitled “Culture 
City" in the January 19, 1960, issue of Look 
and is in the extensive negative files of the 
magazine, 1937-71, which form one of the 
division’s collections. For noncommercial use 
only. LC-L9-21806 


That type of theater had reached the apogee of its development, however, 
and after television began to steal away a large section of the audience in the 
early 1950s, the great theaters became increasingly obsolescent. The principal 
new theater form that developed in this country during the 1950s and 1960s was 
the cultural center. One of the most important of these is New York City’s Lin¬ 
coln Center, made up of four theaters, including the new home of the Metro¬ 
politan Opera, for four different types of performances. Several of the nation’s 
leading architects, shown lounging about the model of the Center in a photo¬ 
graph from the Look magazine collection, pooled their talents for an influential, 
if not completely successful, design. It brings us full circle from Latrobe directing 
the building of his proposed scheme for an entertainment complex and com¬ 
pletes this visual survey of what can be assembled from the Library’s architec¬ 
tural collections on a specific building type. 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 335 



















Site map, plan, and elevation of the Delaware 
Aqueduct of the Delaware and Hudson Canal, 
built 1847-48 and spanning the Delaware 
River from Lackawaxen, Pennsylvania, to 
Minisink Ford, New York. 1969 drawing by 
Eric Delony, HAER. (HAER PA-1) PA,52- 
LACK,1-sheet 2 



DELAWARE AQUEDUCT-DELAWARE AND HUDSON CANAL 1847-1848 

ThC DELAWARE AQUEDUCT IS PROBABLY THE OLDEST SUSPENSION BRIDGE IN THE US. 

IT WAS DESIGNED AND BUILT BY JOHN A ROEBLING, A PIONEER Of SUSPENSION 
BRIDGE TECHNOLOGY, AFTER HIS COMPLETION OF A SIMILAR 5TQDCTURE OVER 
THE ALLEGHENY IN PITTSBURGH. ME FAVORED THE SUSPENSION SYSTEM 
OVER CONVENTIONAL MASONRY ARCUS OR TIMBER TRUSSES AS THE GREATER 
PERMISSABLE SPAN LENGTHS REQUIRED FEWER RIVER PiERS. LESSENING 
IMPEDANCE TO ICE, FLOOD WATERS AND RIVER TRAFFIC THE DELAWARE AQUE¬ 
DUCT WAS THE LONGEST Of FOUR BUILT DURING A MAJOR IMPROVEMENT IN 
The CANAL AND »S THE SOLE SURVIVOR AFTER THE CANAL whs ABANDONED 
IN 1698, THE AQUEDUCT WAS DC WATERED AND CONVERTED INTO A HIGHWAY 
TOLL BRIDGE WHICH FUNCTION fT CONTINUES TO SERVE. THE WOOD TQUN< WAS 
REPLACED BY THE PRESENT DECK SYSTEM FOLLOWING A FIRE IN 1932. 


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U«»t» *0 

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HISTORIC AMERICAN 
ENGINEERING RECORD 
imot 2 o* 4 win 


MOHAWK-HUDSON AREA SURVEY 


The same approach can be taken in using the division’s collections to survey 
the development of American bridges in their various forms and methods of 
construction. HABS recorded more than fifty bridges before 1969, but since 
that time the Historic American Engineering Record has assumed those respon¬ 
sibilities. The site, plan, and elevation of one of the earliest American suspension 
bridges, the Delaware and Hudson Canal’s Delaware Aqueduct, are all depicted 
in a single HAER drawing from 1969. This type of material is supplemented by 
historical photographs in the collections, like the 1860s view of a combination 
truss spanning the Cumberland River at Nashville, Tennessee, found under the 


336 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 





































category “railroad bridges’’ in reference prints of the Brady-Handy Collection; 
it is also indexed in our subject file for bridges. Other remarkable documents 
are to be found in the Historical Print Collection, including manufacturer’s 
advertisements like that of the Wrought Iron Bridge Company of Canton, Ohio, 
dating from the 1870s, and views like the 1871 lithograph showing the engineer, 
phases of construction, and finished appearance of St. Louis’s Eads Bridge. At 
the time of its erection, 1867-74, the Eads Bridge was notable for the largest 
fixed-end steel arches ever constructed. One can even set about recreating the 
construction of some bridges from photographs in various collections; a good 
example is the Williamsburg Bridge over the East River in New York, 1896- 
1903. 


Bridge across the Cumberland River at 
Nashville, Tennessee. The Brady-Handy 
Collection contains hundreds of excellent views 
of buildings—and bridges—from the 1860s, 
few of which structures survived even into this 
century. The collection has divisions accord¬ 
ing both to cities and to building types; this 
photograph was under the category Railroad 
Bridges (Lot 4177). LC-B811-2642 



Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 347 

















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t (HAMMOND & A B BOTT’S PATENT OF APRIL 26, INTO) 



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An 1870s lithographic advertisement executed by W. J. Morgan and Company, found in the Historical Print 
Collection (B size). Documents like this are invaluable in the study of American engineering. This one not only 
shows the product and name and location of the manufacturer, but also provides a cross section of its principal 
structural unit and identifies its patent. LC-USZ62-54648 


338 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 




































Above:.View of the Eads Bridge across the Mississippi at St. Louis, constructed 1867—74. Vignettes provide details 
of the progress of its innovative construction and a portrait of its chief engineer, James E. Eads. This 1874 litho¬ 
graph, after a drawing by F. Welcker, was deposited for copyright by the Democrat Lithography and Printing 
Company and is now in the Historical Print Collection (D size). Its copy negative was indexed under Bridges, and 
a reference copy placed with others relating to Missouri. LC-US-Z62—1032 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 339 




















The Williamsburg Bridge across the East River, New York City, 
under construction about 1903; from a stereoscopic view deposited for 
copyright by the Keystone View Company. Thousands of such stereo 
views make up an independent reference collection which is arranged 
geographically. This photograph was filed under New York—New York 
City: Bridges—Williamsburg. LC-USZ62-62053 


Below: The Williamsburg Bridge and its approaches after completion, in 
a 1919 copyright deposit by Irving Underhill found in the Geographic File 
(mounted photographs) under New York—New York City: Street Views. 

This view of the original neighborhood and the bustle of vehicular and 
pedestrian traffic conveys the vital importance of the bridge to the city 
as no modern photograph could. LC-U SZ62-35807 



340 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 













- 




Nighttime festivities at the opening of the Williamsburg Bridge. Photograph deposited for 
copright in 1903 by C. O. Wiesemann and found in the Geographic File (mounted photographs) 
under New York—New York City: Bridges—Williamsburg. LC-USZ62-62054 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 341 






The Singer Tower, 149 Broadway, New York 
City, under construction about 1908. Detroit 
Publishing Company collection, Lot 9150-M 
New York City—Named Buildings (arranged 
alphabetically). LC-D4-70745 


The same type of visual history may be assembled for specific structures, 
such as the Singer Tower in New York City, a remarkable Beaux-Arts skyscraper 
designed by Ernest Flagg and built between 1906 and 1908. Using the HABS 
records, the supplemental card indexes, and geographic files, one can document 
its construction, contemporary portrayal by an artist, and demolition. It is even 
possible to examine the social history of such building forms as the skyscraper 
in our collections of popular American illustration. Both the 1907 cartoon from 
Puck magazine and a Reginald Marsh drawing for The New Yorker in the 1930s 
comment effectively on the new problems of scale introduced into the urban 
landscape by the tall buildings. 



342 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 







E. C. Peixotto’s pen-and-wash 
drawing of the Singer Tower was 
done in 1909, just after the build¬ 
ing’s completion, and published in 
Scribner’s Magazine, September 
1909. Found by using the architec¬ 
tural collections’ supplemental 
index to buildings, it is filed in 
Cabinet of American Illustration 
(B size). LC-USZ62-58650 


The Singer Tower from the north¬ 
west during its demolition, 
September 1967■ Photo by Jack E. 
Boucher, HABS. (HABS NY-5463) 
NY,31-N EYO ,71-4 



Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 343 


























“The Future of Trinity Church” according to a wood engraving by 
Albert Levering published in Puck, March 6, 1907. Photocopies of 
published materials in the general collections are filed under subject 
categories, with the reference copies in the Historical Print Collection. 
They are also separately listed by subject and geographic location in the 
index to copy negatives. LC-USZ62-59235 


344 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century 



“Pretty, isn’t it”—original crayon drawing by Reginald Marsh for 
The New Yorker, showing two tiny figures taking in the Brobdingnagian 
structures of lower Manhattan. Filed in Lot 9222, it was found by 
looking in the division’s general subject index wider New York City- 
Caricatures and Cartoons. LC-USZ62-62055 


to the Sixties 































The Trinity—U.S. Really Buildings, New York 
City. Architect Francis H. Kimball’s firm pre¬ 
dilection for Gothic ornament led him to 
design this remarkable pair of early skyscrapers 
adjacent to Richard Upjohn’s Trinity Church. 
Copyright deposit by living Underhill, 1912, 
found among the Oversize Mounted Photo¬ 
graphs under New York—New York City: 
Buildings. LC-USZ62-62056 



Architectural styles have been a source of both inspiration and debate for 
most of the history of American architecture. Numerous citations for “Gothic” 
buildings can be found in the architectural subject index, but two fantastic ex¬ 
amples of the commercial application of that style—fifty years apart—were found 
by looking through the commercial buildings in New York City represented in 
the Historical Print Collection and the Geographical File of mounted photo¬ 
graphs. Similarly, instances of “French” influence in interior design, almost fifty 
years apart, were found in the Historical Print Collection and the Single Subject 
File. 



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Color lithograph from 1861, showing the busy premises of the Grover and Baker Sewing 
Machine Company in New York City, where Gothic details were translated into the then modern 
idiom of cast iron and plate glass. Lithograph by Crow, Thomas and Company, in the Histori¬ 
cal Print Collection (C size). LC-USZ62-13217 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 345 



























“A Parlor View in a New York Dwelling House,” about 185-1, a woodcut from a contemporary illustrated maga¬ 
zine. A parlor “in the French taste” in the 1850s apparently consisted of a rather bizarre combination of Louis 
XIV and Louis XV motifs and pointed perhaps more to its owners’ prosperity than to their artistic sensibilities. 
From the Historical Print Collection under New York—New York City: Private Homes and Mansions. LC- 
USZ62-62057 

346 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 












































































































































The parlor in the Presidential Suite of Philadelphia’s Bellevue-Stratford Hotel, showing a turn-of-the-century 
American interpretation of a French interior. Although a bit purer in its largely Louis XV inspiration than the 
earlier example, fashionable anachronisms like the lamp on the center table render it less successful. Copyright 
deposit photograph by William H. Raw, ca. 1910, in the Single Photo File under Hotels, Taverns, etc. Interiors: 
United States—Pennsylvania. LC-USZ62-62058 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 347 










If one wishes to investigate details of design, hundreds are indexed in the 
architectural subject files, and a number of illustrations can be found under such 
a heading as “Cupolas.” A still broader sample can quickly be assembled by 
scanning various geographic files for building types in areas likely to have onion 
domes. A combination of these methods produced a survey of onion-shaped 
cupolas from Alaska to Texas, dating from the beginning to the end of the 
nineteenth century, showing them gracing a church, residences, and resort build¬ 
ings. 


A HABS measured drawing by 
Robert G. Higginbotham of a 
section through St. Michael’s 
Cathedral in Sitka, Alaska, first 
built around 1817 and rebuilt in 
1848. Its onion-shaped cuploas are 
of a type often used on Russian 
Orthodox churches and are 
indexed in the Architectural Sub¬ 
ject Index. This and other HABS 
drawings were used to rebuild St. 
Michael’s a second time after it was 
destroyed by fire in 1966. (HABS 
A LAS-1) ALAS J-SITK A,1-sheet 5 



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SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA 

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NATIONAL SANK SCMVICC. BNANCM OC ALANS AND OCSICN 


ST. 


MICHAEL'S CATHEDRAL 

SITKA, ALASKA 


SURVIT MO 

HISTORIC AMERICAN 

ALAS * 1 

BUILDINGS SURVEY 


SHEET 5 OF 6 SHEETS 


SECTION 
SCALE ■/•••ro" 


348 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 




































































































































“Oriental Villa’’ from Sloan’s Homestead Archi¬ 
tecture, by Samuel Sloan (Philadelphia: J. B. 
Lippincott, 1861). The onion cupola is a 
prominent feature of this octagonal design for a 
residence, found under the general category 
Architecture with other reference copies from the 
Historical Print Collection. When copy negatives are 
made from illustrations in the Library’s American 
architectural books and periodicals, they are 
indexed by subject and reference copies are placed 
in the appropriate subject and geographic files. 
LC-USZ62-53305 



Almost identical to Sloan’s “Oriental Villa” is Longwood, near Natchez, 
Mississippi, which he designed about 1860 for Haller Nutt. Left unfinished since 
the beginning of the Civil War, Longwood remains one of the outstanding 
applications to a domestic structure of what the nineteenth century called the 
“Moorish style.” This image was found in the Single Photo File under 
Dwellings: United States—Mississippi and is one of the more than twenty-five 
thousand photographic views of American cities, towns, buildings, and scenery 
produced or collected by the Wittemann Brothers (later the Albertype Company) 
of Brooklyn, New York, and given to the Library by Mrs. Gladys G. Wittemann 
in 1953. LC-USZ62-16823 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 349 




















Another house with a “Moorish" onion 
cupola, this one in Dallas, Texas. In the 
Single Photo File under Dwellings: United 
States—Texas; also from the Wittemann be¬ 
quest. LC-U SZ62-62059 



A “Moorish” bathing pavilion at Salt Lake 
City, Utah. Resort areas and exotic architec¬ 
tural styles have often exhibited a natural 
affinity for one another. From a stereoscopic 
view deposited for copyright in 1906 and 
located in the Stereo File under Utah—Salt 
Lake. LC-USZ62-62060 


Facing page: Also sporting onion cupolas 
was the huge Tampa Bay Hotel, in Tampa, 
Florida, finished in 1891 and now a univer¬ 
sity building. From the Detroit Publishing 
Company collection, Lot 9083: Florida. 
LC-D4-05846 


350 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 














Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 351 


















Above: Frank Lloyd Wright (1867—1959), one 
of America’s most original , controversial, and 
influential architects. Thousands of notable 
Americans, including architects and engineers, 
are represented in the division’s Portrait File, 
where this image, a 1926 copyright deposit, 
was found. LC—USZ62—36384 


Scale drawing of the south elevation of 
Wright’s famous Robie House in Chicago, 
built 1908-10. HABS has recorded thirteen of 
Wright’s buildiiigs in photographs and 
measured drawings. 1963 drawing by Janis J. 
Erins, HABS. (HABS ILL-1005) ILL,16- 
CHIG,33-sheet 5 


The careers of individual architects and firms may also be traced through 
various groups of material. A quick check of two probable sources, the Portrait 
File and the Look Collection, produced photographs of Frank Lloyd Wright, 
both early and late in his career, the latter showing him at work with his students 
at Taliesin West in 1951. As for his buildings, thirteen have been surveyed by 
HABS alone, often with measured drawings like those for the influential Robie 
House in Chicago. By chance, among the oversize architectural drawings we dis¬ 
covered a significant unpublished version of his design for a United States em¬ 
bassy complex in Tokyo, Japan. Deposited for copyright in 1914, it represents a 
telling link between Wright’s Prairie Houses and his important design for 



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352 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 


















































































































































Wright’s 1914 copyright deposit 
design for U.S. embassy in Tokyo. 
Heliotype highlighted with colored 
pencil and including alterations in 
black ink. LC-USZ62-62061 


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Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 353 































In the drafting room at Taliesin 
West in 1951, Wright checks plans 
with aides (left to right) Wesley 
Peters, Gene Masselink, and John 
Howe, Photograph by Ezra Stoller 
from the Look collection, pub¬ 
lished in the January 1, 1952, 
issue. For noncommercial use only. 
LC-L9-A39772 



Tokyo’s Imperial Hotel, commissioned in the same year. The many such schemes 
which have come into the Library’s collections through copyright deposits are 
often the only evidence of some stages in the design of a building, or of a project 
never carried out. They promise to be one of the division’s most important 
future resources for scholarly investigation, especially of the works of individual 
architects and firms. 

Another especially rich resource is found in our unmatched documentation 
of America’s vernacular structures. A familiar building type throughout the 
low-lying areas of the South is characterized by high basements, shading veran¬ 
das, and spreading roofs. First credited to the French in the Illinois Territory, 
the design took advantage of available materials and building skills and com¬ 
batted certain clear disadvantages of climate and terrain. Examples of both grand 
and humble dwellings—drawn with equal facility from three different collections 
—demonstrate the application of the style over one hundred years. 


354 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 



Above: Engraving of a “French Habitation in the 
Country of the Illinois” from Collot’s Voyage dans 
l’Amerique Septentrionale (Paris, 1826). The refer¬ 
ence copy of this early view of an important 
American vernacular building type is included in the 
Historical Print Collection under Illinois. LC— 
USZ62—33765 

Above right: Virtually an exact continuation of the 
building design illustrated by Collot is this cabin 
near Ed gar d, St. John the Baptist Parish, Louisiana. 
This view, typical of Frances Benjamin Johnston’s 
excellent photographs of American vernacular archi¬ 
tecture, was made in 1938 as part of the Carnegie 
Survey of the Architecture of the South. LC-J7- 
LA1209 

Right: The Octave J. Darby Home in New Iberia, 
Louisiana, originally built by Frangois St. Marc 
Darby in 1813, exhibits the same characteristics but 
on the larger and more elegant scale of a plantation 
house. This photograph is from the Single Photo 
File under Dwellings: United States—Louisiana, and 
was part of the Wittemann bequest. LC-USZ62-62062 



Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 355 
















































Another type of structure, also peculiarly American in its symbolic huck- 
sterism, might be classified as the “commercial vernacular”; it is well represented 
by such examples as Lucy, the Margate Elephant, and a 1930s eating establish¬ 
ment which disallows any conjecture as to its function. 


Left: Lucy, the Margate Elephant, served as a tourist attraction and for a short time as a hotel 
in Margate, New Jersey; it has recently been restored. This view comes from the Single Photo 
File under the heading Hotel, Taverns, etc.: United States—New Jersey, and was part of the 
Wittemann bequest. LC-USZ62-59150 


A roadside ice cream stand near Berlin, Connecticut, October 1939. The FSA/OWI collection is 
rich in examples of such American commercial vernaular types. During the 1930s, when most of 
this collection was created, the independent businessman, rather than the chain, was still 
supreme along our highways, and he often used such overblown symbolism to advertise both his 
wares and his individuality. Photographs by Russell Lee fded in the Northeastern Region of 
the FSA/OWI collection under Lunchrooms, Diners. LC-USF33-12442-M3 



356 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 












The Prints and Photographs Division also offers important resources for the 
study of America’s urban development. Among the most significant of these are 
the “bird’s-eye” views in the Historic Print Collection, like the one for Virginia 
City of 1861, and the photographic panoramas. Our geographic files include such 
items as an 1869 scheme to alleviate New York City’s traffic problems by means 
of an arcaded railway, and such later alternatives to urban congestion as the 
“new towns” of the 1930s. The development of Greenbelt, Maryland, for in¬ 
stance, is well documented in the files of the Farm Security Administration/Office 
of War Information Collection. 


Bird’s eye view of Virginia City, 
Nevada Territory, with vignettes of 
individual buildings around the 
border. The value of such docu¬ 
ments for the study of the develop¬ 
ment of a town or city and its 
architecture is clear. This view, 
drawn by Grafton T. Brown, 
lithographed by C. C. Kuchel, and 
published by Britton and Com¬ 
pany, 1861, comes from the Histori¬ 
cal Print Collection (D size, 

Kuchel). LC-USZ62-7743 



Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 357 


















“Proposed Arcade Railway under Broadway, 
1869.” This predecessor of the subway showed 
an early attempt at separating vehicular and 
individual traffic from mass rail transportation 
A 1905 copyright deposit, it was found in the 
Geographic File (mounted photographs) under 
New York—New York City: Street Views— 
Broadway. LC-USZ62-62063 



Perhaps these samplings have provided some idea of the scope and wealth 
of the Library’s architectural collections. Not discussed were the important com¬ 
plementary collections in the custody of other branches of the Library. The ma¬ 
terials on urban development used as examples only hint at the related resources 
in the Geography and Map Division. Further, the Library’s Manuscript Division 
houses the papers of an impressive cross section of American architects and engi¬ 
neers, including those of William Thornton, Montgomery Meigs, Frederick Law 
Olmsted, Cass Gilbert, and Ludwig Mies van der Rohe. The range of American 
architectural books and professional and trade publications to be found in the 
Library’s book and periodical collections is equally impressive. 


358 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 












Panoramic view of San Francisco, California, in 1877, with a key identifying the numbered buildings and land¬ 
marks. Its creator, Eadweard J. Muybridge, identified himself as a “ landscape, marine, architectural, and engineer¬ 
ing photographer,” although he later became more famous for the pioneering photographic studies of movement 
which he began in the same year. The importance of such documents is similar to that of bird’s-eye views, and 
the majority of the Library’s extensive collection of such panoramas came to it through copyright deposit. 

Most are arranged by geographic location. LC-USZ62-24754 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress \ 359 
















TOWN 

MARYLAND 




PICNIC 

CUTER 


GREEM BELT 


RECREATION 

AREA 


LAK.E. 

PAJX LANDS 


COMM E R.CIAI 
CENTER t 


, * \ V ». COMHUNITY, $LDG 

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560 / Prints, Drazvings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 







Right: Developmental drawing for the facades 
of two office buildings on 15th Street in 
Washington, D.C., designed in 1924 for B. F. 
Saul and Company by architect George N. 

Ray. Much care went into the design of such 
well-mannered and elegant small commercial 
buildings during the 1920s. The drawings in 
the lies of the architectural firm of Waggaman 
and Ray, recently given to the Library, 
included over twenty different schemes for the 
facades in this project and reveal much about 
its design process. Pencil on tracing paper. 
LC-U SZ62-62064 


Left: One of the preliminary designs for the 
“ultimate town” of Greenbelt, Maryland, a 
model community planned by the Suburbayi 
Resettlement Division of the U.S. Resettle¬ 
ment Administration in the 1950s. Numerous 
photographs and similar documents of the 
development and building of Greenbelt are in 
the FSA/OWI collection’s Northeastern Region 
under Planned Towns. Such new towns trace 
their origins to the earlier English Garden 
City movement. LC-USF344-5215-7B 



The Library of Congress also enjoys a valuable array of support services and 
expertise applicable to the preservation and use of its architectural collections. 
The Restoration Office has beautifully restored many of the Library’s architec¬ 
tural drawings, most recently and notably the Bulfinch Sketchbook. Requests by 
museums and historical societies across the country for original items from the 
collections are handled by the Exhibits Office. For the students, scholars, preser¬ 
vationists, and others who order thousands of copies of the materials each year, 
the Photoduplication Service answers their needs. 

The architectural collections have grown steadily, if not rapidly, since 1944, 
when the Fine Arts Division was transformed into the present Prints and Photo¬ 
graphs Division. Much of the credit for their continuing development must go to 
Virginia Daiker, who retired in 1975 after forty years of admirable and knowl- 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 361 



















































































































A recent and important addition to the 
Library’s collection of early American archi¬ 
tectural drawings is this beautiful sectional 
elevation of Stephen Hallet’s influential entry 
in the competition to design the United 
States Capitol. Drawn sometime after March 
1793, it complements three other drawings of 
the French-trained architect’s final or “E” 
scheme that were already in the collection. 
LC—USZ.62—592-10; LC-USZC-f-596 (color). 


edgeable service to the collections. The regular deposits of records by HABS and 
HAER have recently been supplemented by two important acquisitions: a collec¬ 
tion of approximately sixteen thousand drawings and documents representing 
the work of the Washington, D.C., architectural firm of Waggaman and Ray from 
1907 to 1930, given to the Library by the family of George N. Ray, and the pur¬ 
chase of an important competition drawing for the United States Capitol by 
Stephen Hallet. 

America’s built heritage is here documented and available for study by 
building type; by design discipline, including architecture and landscape archi- 


362 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 




















































tecture, city planning, and interior design; and by medium, including original 
and measured drawings, prints, and photographic prints and negatives, many 
incorporating photogrammetric and stereographic techniques. This special mix of 
comprehensive collections and established services constitutes a genuine national 
treasure, approaching in reality the ideal envisioned by Dr. Holland almost fifty 
years ago. 


NOTES 


1. U.S., Library of Congress, Annual Report of the Librarian of Congress (hereafter cited 
as ARLC) , 1927, p. 132. 

2. ARLC, 1930, p. 235. 

3. Virginia Daiker, “Pictorial Archives of Early American Architecture,” undated historical 
explanation of the collection; PAEAA File, Architectural Collections, Prints and Photographs 
Division. 

4. Leicester B. Holland, “Report on the Pictorial Archives of Early American Architecture,” 
May 7, 1932, p. 1; PAEAA file. As part of these efforts, Dr. Holland even gave a radio talk on 
the NBC network, September 27, 1933, entitled “The Romance of Preserving Old Buildings,” a 
typescript of which survives in our files. 

5. ARLC, 1930, p. 229. 

6. Paul Vanderbilt, Guide to the Special Collections of Prints & Photographs in the Library 
of Congress (Washington: Library of Congress, 1955) , p. 87. 

7. Leicester B. Holland, “Report on the Pictorial Archives of Early American Architecture,” 
December 31, 1935, pp. 1-3; PAEAA file. 

8. Ibid., p. 1. 

9. Ibid. 

10. ARLC, 1934, p. 137. 

11. ARLC, 1936, pp. 160-61. The Historic Sites Act of 1935 was the legal instrument estab¬ 
lishing the long-range program. 

12. Leicester B. Holland, “Report on the Pictorial Archives of Early American Architecture,” 
April 24, 1934, p. 2; PAEAA file. 

13. Collections of foreign architectural documentation usually are also geographically 
indexed, arranged, and subdivided and include a broad range of media. The scope of the foreign 
material is nearly encyclopedic, including examples representative of almost every historic or 
national building tradition. 


Architectural Collections of the Library of Congress / 363 









































































About the Authors 


Karen F. Beall, curator of fine prints, came to the Prints and Photographs 
Division in 1964. A native of the Washington, D.C., area, she completed her 
undergraduate studies at American University and did graduate work there and 
at Johns Hopkins University. In addition to the articles she has published in 
Quarterly Journal and in Philobiblon, Mrs. Beall has compiled American Prints 
in the Library of Congress, contributed notes on fine prints to Viewpoints, and 
is the author of Cries and Itinerant Trades, which she undertook with the aid of 
a grant from the American Philosophical Society. 

Edgar Breitenbach was chief of the Prints and Photographs Division from 
1956 to 1973. A native of Germany, he received a doctor’s degree in the history 
of art from the University of Hamburg in 1927 and a library diploma for re¬ 
search libraries from the University of Berlin in 1929. He has taught art history 
at Mills Fine Arts Center in Colorado Springs, worked for the Federal Com¬ 
munications Commission and the Office of War Information in Washington, and 
spent ten years in Europe working for the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives 
Section of OMGUS, and the American Memorial Library in Berlin. Among 
Dr. Breitenbach’s publications are Speculum humanae salvationis, The Ameri¬ 
can Poster, Santos, the Religious Folk Art of New Mexico, and numerous 
essays in the field of art history. 

Virginia Daiker retired in 1975 after completing more than forty years of 
service in the Library’s Prints and Photographs Division and its predecessor, the 


About the Authors / 365 


Fine Arts Division, as indexer, cataloger, head of the reference section, and 
specialist in American architecture. A native Washingtonian, she received her 
B.A. in education from Maryland University and her B.A. in library science 
from the George Washington University. Miss Daiker was honored by awards 
from the American Scenic and Historic Preservation Society and the National 
Trust for Historic Preservation for her work on the Historic American Buildings 
Survey. 

Fritz Eichenberg, an illustrator and printmaker, served as a member of the 
Library of Congress's Pennell Committee from 1959 to 1965. A native of Cologne, 
Germany, he graduated from the State Academy for Graphic Arts in Leipzig in 
1923. He was chairman of the Art Department at Pratt Institute from 1956 to 
1963 and was on the faculty of the Department of Art at the University of 
Rhode Island from 1966 to 1972, serving as chairman of the department from 
1966 to 1969. In 1972 he began teaching at Albertus Magnus College. Mr. 
Eichenberg has illustrated over a hundred books. His graphic work is included 
in the major print collections in the United States and Europe. 

Alan M. Fern, director of the Research Department in the Library of Con¬ 
gress, joined the Library staff in 1961. Before being appointed to his present 
position in 1976, he served in the Prints and Photographs Division as assistant 
curator of fine prints, curator of fine prints, assistant chief, and chief. Dr. Fern 
received his A.B. degree in 1950 from the University of Chicago. He continued 
his studies in the history of art at the same university and received his M.A. in 
1954 and his Ph.D. in 1960. Before coming to the Library, Dr. Fern taught at 
the University of Chicago, the Art Institute of Chicago, the Institute of Design, 
the University of Maryland, and Pratt Institute. He has published extensively 
in the field of art and printmaking. 

Charles A. Herrington worked in reference and cataloging in the Library’s 
Prints and Photographs Division from 1965 to 1967. Having received a B.A. 
degree from Tulane University in 1964 with emphasis on art history and French, 
he left the Library of Congress to enter graduate school at the University of 
Wisconsin, where he was awarded an M.A. in art history. Mr. Herrington con¬ 
tinued his graduate study at the University of Michigan, specializing in archi¬ 
tectural history. Since 1973, he has been employed by the Department of the 
Interior as chief of registration for the National Register of Historic Places. 

366 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 


Milton Kaplan, retired curator of historical prints in the Prints and Photo¬ 
graphs Division of the Library of Congress, came to the Library in 1941, after 
graduating from the College of William and Mary in 1940. He organized sev¬ 
eral major exhibits at the Library, among them “Hair,” “Advertising in Nine¬ 
teenth-Century America,” and “The Performing Arts in Nineteenth-Century 
America. - ' He compiled the book Pictorial Americana and coauthored Charles 
Fenclerich, Lithographer of American Statemen and Viewpoints, all Library of 
Congress publications. Mr. Kaplan also coauthored a number of illustrated books 
in American history: Presidents on Parade (1948), Divided We Fought (1952), 
The Story of the Declaration of Independence (1954, 1975), and The Ungentle- 
manly Art (1968, 1975). 

Fiske Kimball (1888—1955) was director of the Philadelphia Museum of Art 
from 1925 to 1955. A native of Massachusetts, he received bachelor’s and master’s 
degrees from Harvard and a doctor’s degree from the University of Michigan. 
He taught art and architecture at the universities of Illinois, Michigan, and 
Virginia from 1912 to 1923. His published writings include The Creation of 
the Rococo as well as articles in various art and architecture journals. Dr. Kim¬ 
ball served on the advisory board for the restoration of Colonial Williamsburg. 


Mary R. Mearns, a retired staff member of the Library of Congress, attended 
George Washington and Benjamin Franklin Universities. She served the Library 
for thirty years—in the Card Division, Chief Clerk’s Office, and Reading Rooms. 
As an administrative assistant, she aided in the organization of the Reference 
Department. Mrs. Mearns reports that the interview with Clifford Berryman was 
one of the happiest events of her Library days. 


Elena G. Millie came to the Library of Congress in 1964. She received her 
B.A. from the University of North Carolina, where she also did graduate work 
in art history, and worked for a year at the National Gallery of Art before 
joining the staff of the Prints and Photographs Division as a cataloger. She is 
now curator of the Poster Collection and is also responsible for the British and 
French Political Cartoon Collection and the J. and E. R. Pennell Collection of 
Whistleriana. Mrs. Millie has compiled a checklist of the British political car¬ 
toon holdings in the Library of Congress for publication. 


About the Authors / 367 


C. Ford Peatross, curator of the architectural collections, joined the Prints 
and Photographs Division in 1976. A native of North Carolina, he received his 
B.B.A. degree in business administration from Wake Forest University in 1969. 
A Ph.D. Candidate at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, he has 
specialized in architectural history and nineteenth-century painting and graphic 
art. During 1974-75 he was a Samuel H. Kress Fellow at the National Gallery of 
Art, and in 1975 and 1976 attended summer schools on Austrian and Roman 
baroque architecture sponsored by the University of London's Courtauld Insti¬ 
tute. He has delivered papers before various professional societies, his work on 
Theodore Gericault appearing in Studies in Art History. Before coming to the 
Library, he was a researcher for The Architecture of Washington, D.C., pub¬ 
lished by the Dunlap Society. 

Renata V. Shaw, bibliographic specialist in the Prints and Photographs Di¬ 
vision, joined the Library staff in 1962. A native of Finland, she received an 
M.A. in art history from the University of Chicago (1949), the Magister 
Philosophiae at the University of Helsinki (1951), and a diploma in museology 
at the Ecole de Louvre in Paris (1952). After two additional years of post¬ 
graduate work at the Sorbonne and the Ecole de Chartes, Mrs. Shaw taught 
French in Washington, D. C., and worked at the National Gallery of Art. She 
continued her graduate studies at Catholic University, receiving an M.S. in 
library science in 1962. Mrs. Shaw has written several articles in the field of 
graphic arts and visual librarianship. In 1973 she published a bibliography en¬ 
titled Picture Searching. 

Raymond L. Stehle, a pharmacologist by profession, earned his Ph.D. at 
Yale University in 1915. He taught physiological chemistry at the University 
of Pennsylvania until 1921, when he accepted an appointment at McGill Uni¬ 
versity in Montreal. In 1924 he became a full professor and chairman of the 
department of pharmacology, a position he held until 1953, when he became 
professor emeritus. Upon his retirement he spent nearly a year in Europe and, 
on his return, eventually settled in Washington, D. C. Dr. Stehle has contributed 
numerous articles to scientific journals and, since his retirement, has published 
several studies of artist Emanuel Leutze. 


368 / Prints, Drawings, and Paintings from the Turn of the Century to the Sixties 


* U. S. GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE : 1979 O - 247-861 




























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